


Harley's Joke

by Daddys_Girl



Category: Batgirl - Fandom, Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Birthdays, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Halloween, Incest, Psychotherapy, Revenge, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daddys_Girl/pseuds/Daddys_Girl
Summary: Harley Quinzel is a psychologist who works part-time at Arkham Asylum, and she has fallen head-over-heels in love with her favorite patient, the Joker. She will do anything to keep her man happy.Barbara Gordon (Babsy), is approaching her twelfth birthday, and it is a very confusing time in her life.James Gordon is a single dad, just trying to do right by his daughter and his commitments, but he’s going through a mid-life crisis almost as confusing as what his daughter is going through.Everyone is caught up in one of Harley’s crazy schemes to win her Puddin’s heart — and have some squicky fun along the way!





	1. Bad Romance

Harley sits in her home office on a brown leather chair with a clipboard perched atop her crossed knees. She looks professional in an elegant grey suit and long skirt, but her dark tights show off her legs down to a black thong sandal that hangs precariously from her raised foot. Her look is simultaneously disarming and refined, and it is exactly the look Harley wants to project.

Her high-profile clients are all parents of troubled, hormone-rattled girls who have recently been infected by the menarche bug. Somehow these intelligent adults are taken aback when their daughters go through changes and are seemingly transformed into demon-possessed children. So their parents look for a miracle, and they don’t care if the miracle comes from a priest or a doctor.

When the parents meet Harley, she gives them hope. She is an acknowledged expert on sexual dysfunction, and she reminds the parents that she “cured” several troubled youths in Arkham in her two short years since medical school, and driving the demons from their lost daughters will  require only a little of her considerable psycho-science magic.  Harley presents herself as an ideal role model: professional, young, and beautiful. Their girls are afraid to grow up, but when the girls take one look at Harley, they see a version of adulthood that they would like for themselves.

The parents see what Harley wants them to see. They pay big bucks for a reputation, for a look, and for a miracle, although all that is usually needed is for someone to sit and listen to the suffering girls who only need to talk and cry and not be judged, and eventually, the demons would leave on their own.

Parents often ask her why she gave up her work at Arkham after she famously cured the famously troubled girl Alice Tetch. They are amazed that such a touted doctor could be so affordable. She tells them she feels a special calling to help these very young women because she had a difficult transition to adulthood herself.

That part was true, but the rest was bullshit.

The truth is that at her price-per-hour, she can pick any patient she wants, and she can spend as much time as she wants with these troubled girls. And if a girl doesn’t serve her purposes, she will refer that patient to someone else.

Right now, for example, the girl sitting across from her is a complete bore and has no issues with her parents. She has a problem with depression, and the sudden influx of hormones in her life is causing problems, turning her into a little bitch. However, none of those problems suit Harley’s purpose, so she will drop this patient as soon as she can think of the right colleague to refer the girl to.

What Harley is looking for is an innocent girl she can have fun with, manipulate, and who is willing to share dirt about her parents. That’s what Harley needs because that’s what Joker, her Puddin’, needs.

She met her bae last year while he was suffering in Arkham, and it was love at first sight. Her expertise was with adolescent psychology, not that of the criminally insane, but nobody else wanted to deal with the demented clown, so they let her have a try at it. She was never even suspected when he mysteriously escaped from Arkham a week later.

Since then, she visited her Puddin’ every night after work in whatever secret place he desired, often in her own home. It was like a honeymoon at first, making love every night, usually with a hard-core kink to make it more exciting for him.

Harley went along with what others would consider sexual abuse because she was excited whenever he was excited, even when she was humiliated or in pain. She could take it all and want more. She often left the bed with bruises that were hard to explain back at work, but even the aches of the bruises were exciting reminders of awaited her at night.

Some nights he didn’t want to have sex. Instead, he would rant and rave about Batman, or the police who were always chasing him, or the Gotham elite who were all hypocrites.

Harley would try to get his attention with lingerie and perfume and wild costumes, but she didn’t mind if he didn’t notice, so long as she could be with him.

But before long, he lost his desire for Harley completely, and he disappeared for days on end. She always thought their love would last forever, so she was devastated. This was the one thing she just could not tolerate. She searched her memory and the asylum logs for an answer that could help her restore his passion.

She learned that what really excited him was pubescent girls. He wasn’t exactly a pedophile or even a hebephile, but middle school girls were deliciously forbidden and innocent. They were virgins to spoil, and the world treats such exploitation as an utter tragedy, even if the girl is eager, which he finds delightfully absurd. Harley can’t give him that kind of thrill with her youthful but adult body and mind, so one day he just stopped showing up or even answering her frequent calls and messages.

She’s been trying to win him back ever since by providing him with what he needs to get excited. Harley is nothing if not accommodating. Nothing else matters to her. She can even get into a three-way with a little girl, if that’s what he wants. Harley’s patients are not only very young and beautiful, but they are also the children of Gotham’s elite and powerful. What better way to satisfy both his perverse desires and need for revenge?

Accordingly, she sends him frequent updates on her girls, but he rarely calls Harley back. He’s very choosy about his shenanigans. Everything must be done his way and reveal hidden truths about people. So he won't allow any lying or trickery, like hypnosis, but Harley will find some wiggle room if the plan is funny!

And if he’s going to be locked up again, he wants it to matter, so not just any girl will do. None of Harley’s girls as of yet has had it all: beauty, sensitivity, innocence, passion, compliance, and, of course, a sense of humor. None of them have been a suitable vehicle for revenge.

So it's a tall order, but Harley will keep on trying, unless she can think of a better way to get her Puddin’ back into her bed.

 


	2. Bad Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley gets her wish.

The police sedan pulls in front of a house.

The little redheaded girl was expecting a hospital or large building, not a quaint colonial home in the suburbs of Gotham, so she waits in the back seat for her father to begin driving again.

But the car doesn’t move. Daddy never puts the car in park, and he never looks at her. He just says, “This is the place, Babsy. Everyone says this doctor is the best, so behave yourself and do whatever she asks and I’m sure she’ll help you get over whatever is bothering you.”

Tears stream down her face as she looks at her hands, which are wringing the hem of her skirt anxiously. She feels lost and far away from her Daddy in the back seat. She wanted to ride in front with him, but he said it was better if she was in the back. He didn’t explain why. He doesn’t explain anything these days. So she felt isolated during the whole drive, and now he won’t even look at her while he makes her leave or call her by her pet name.

When Babsy doesn’t move for several seconds, he finally looks at her in the mirror and says. “Go on now. There is nothing to be afraid of. Call the station when you are done, and someone will pick you up.”

“Okay Daddy,” she finally says, feeling angry, and she abruptly leaves the car, hoping he will see how upset she is, but he doesn’t hesitate before driving away.

She glares at the car as it pulls away, wiping away her tears, wanting to feel angry rather than sad or ashamed. She wonders how Daddy wants for her to feel.

Babsy walks the brick path to the front door and reads the sign above the doorbell:

 

> **H. F. Quinzel Psy.D, M.D.**
> 
> Ring the bell and step inside

 

Babsy looks at the doorbell for a long while before following the instruction.

A gentle tone fills the silence, but the door creaks open so loudly, the signal might not even be necessary to announce her arrival.

Just inside the door is a waiting area, and she stands with only closed doors in front and behind her. She is twenty minutes early. She considers turning around and leaving, but Daddy would be upset with her if she quit therapy so quickly. He tracks her phone, so he’d detect her disobedience right away.

So she sits on one of two Lazy Boys and shuffles through magazines on a coffee table. She finds three Sports Illustrated and a dozen National Geographic magazines. Those seem like odd magazine choices for a doctor who treats teens, but maybe they are for the parents while they wait for their kids. Babsy is only too aware of how different her Daddy is from other parents; Daddy never waits around for his daughter.

The last thing Babsy wants to do is sit here for twenty minutes thinking about her problems, so she desperately seeks distraction in the magazines. Sports is a subject that bores Babsy to death. Instead, he shuffles through the National Geographics and finds some archival photos of Native Americans in beautiful, ceremonial costumes. Suddenly, she desperately needs that headdress for Halloween, even though she knows it would look so inappropriate on an eleven year old red headed girl of Irish descent.

The accompanying story revisits a familiar subject she had learned about in school two years ago.

Babsy is quickly swept away by the tragic story of how colonial Americans seduced unsuspecting natives out of their land two centuries ago, but Babsy is surprised when the story departs from the black and white story she learned in school and introduces many shades of grey. The way she learned it in school, the innocent Indians did not know what they had, and they were tricked into giving it all up by the allure of trinkets. Now, according to this article, she is informed that while the Indians were disadvantaged, they were not as ignorant as her school history books portrayed them. They weren’t tricked into giving up anything. They got what they wanted, even if the process wasn’t fair. They willingly participated in their victimhood. The article even claims that their descendants benefited from these seemingly bad deals.

Babsy doesn’t know what to think of this new knowledge, but she’s not completely surprised by it.

Now that she’s getting older, everything seems more complicated than it seemed just a few years ago. She’s not sure when everything changed. She is learning about other perspectives, and how nothing is as simple as she grew up believing it to be.

She doesn’t know how to feel about these revelations. Sometimes they are exciting, but they are always scary.

The simplicity of her life had always comforted her, but she is learning that simplicity is never real. It never was.

When she looks at her fingernails, she smiles at how pretty and pink the nail polish looks. She likes the idea of pink. But in reality, she went through twenty variations of pink before she found the exact color that she wants, and nothing else is pink in her eyes except that exact color. She always fusses, trying to get the color just right.

That’s what the world feels like now. Nothing has changed, except now she sees it for what it is, and it’s not simple.

And that’s scary because it flips the world upside down. Now she questions everything. She’s afraid to face the unknown, and she wants someone to lead her to the truth and make those decisions for her.

And maybe that’s why she’s here today, seeing a shrink: so that someone can tell her how to think. Make things simple again. Because her feelings have become as complicated as the world around her.

While reading the heretical magazine and admiring her carefully painted fingernails, she hears movement from beyond one of the closed doors of the waiting room. She feels embarrassed, only God knows why, so she shoves the magazine back where she found it and hides her hands just before the door opens.

A Goth girl not much older than Babsy anxiously emerges. She paralyzes Babsy with a cold look before quickly exiting the house.

Once the dark presence is gone, a pretty blonde woman follows through the same open door. She wears a light grey professional dress, but she challenges professionalism with ample cleavage and plenty of legs. She extends her hand with a smile, saying, “You must be Ms. Gordon. I’m Doctor Quinzel, but you can call me Harley.”

Babsy takes her hand with an admiring smile. Harley looks young for someone with so many letters after her name and in possession of a suburban home office. Babsy was worried that she would get a doctor who was so old that she could never remember what it was like to be in seventh grade, but now Babsy feels more comfortable.

Harley leads Babsy back through the door, into her lair.

Harley gestures to a full-sized sofa littered with throw pillows, saying, “Make yourself comfortable, Barbara. Or is it Babsy?”

“Most adults call me Barbara, but Daddy calls me Babsy,” she replies while frowning at the sofa. She feels like an animal might when thrown into a new environment, sizing everything up and looking for threats and opportunities. The sofa looks wrong. It makes her feel smaller than she even is. Like it might swallow her.

Harley smiles encouragingly as she sits on a simple wooden chair. She crosses her legs as she lifts a clipboard off of a coffee table and rests it against her knees.

Babsy finally sits on the small ottoman in front of the sofa, mirroring Harley’s movements. Using the ottoman as a seat makes her feel bigger, more comfortable, but she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

Besides the furniture, the room is nearly empty, with just a few uninspired paintings decorating the walls. After a moment of looking around, it almost feels rude to not look at Harley.

And when she finally does look, she feels utterly exposed.

Because resting atop the table beside Harley is a tiny hidden camera of a kind that Babsy has become familiar with because her Daddy installed that exact model as part of their security system back at home. It is camouflaged within the USB port that Harley is using to charge her cell phone. Most people wouldn’t notice it.

“Do you mind if I record our session?” Harley asks while she picks up a remote.

“No … I guess not,” Babsy replies with an embarrassed smile. If she had not seen the camera, she would have assumed that Harley only meant to record her voice.

Harley smiles back confidently as she presses on a remote.

“So, Babsy,” Harley begins daringly while raising a pen to her lips and admiring her new patient. “Tell me about yourself. Why are you here?”

Babsy frowns. “Didn’t Daddy tell you?”

She nods. “I’d like to hear it from you.”

Babsy looks at her hands. “They suspended me and another girl for smoking pot in the girl’s room and sexting at school, so Daddy says I have to come here every day so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

Babsy braces for some condescending words about how sexting and smoking pot can mess up a girl for the rest of her life.

But Harley merely nods with a faint smile. “Why do you think your father doesn’t want to deal with you?”

Babsy shivers, and tears instantly build in her eyes. “Because that’s how Daddy is. He never wants to deal with me. He won’t even spank me when I’m bad, anymore.”

Harley raises an eyebrow, and she touches her lips with her pen. “Is that why you smoked pot? So your, umm, Daddy would have to deal with you.”

Babsy feels a sudden urge to run away from this conversation. She fights off the urge and clenches her fists.

Harley gestures for Babsy to calm down. She pours some water from a pitcher on the table into a Pixie cup and hands it the anxious girl, saying, “I’m sorry to rush you. Let’s start over. Please tell me about yourself.”

Babsy drinks the water quickly and then takes several deep breaths. Harley patiently waits, and Babsy finally starts talking, because silence is the worst torture. Babsy has been through this several times already with the school counselor, so she begins the same way, telling Harley all of the embarrassing facts about herself, without telling her anything important.

“Well, I’m a Scorpio. Does that help? I’ll be twelve next week. I’m four feet, five inches tall. I weigh 67 pounds. I’m the smallest girl in my class. Nobody understands me. I cry like all the time. I got my first period three months ago, and when I saw that icky stuff in my panties, I sighed and said, ‘oh, thank God, I’m dying.’”

Harley cracks up, not expecting such a dark joke from the nervous girl.

Babsy smiles and laughs at herself, but the laughter sounds desperate to her ears. Then she stops talking. Her whole body shakes. Her face turns red and collapses upon itself and she cries like an infant, except without any sound.

Harley hands her a handkerchief. Then the doctor pours a glass of water from the coffee table and hands it to Babsy, and waits for the girl to settle.

Babsy is disgusted with herself, and eventually, she forces herself to laugh again. “I haven’t had my period again since, so I guess I’m still a baby! I’m sorry about that.”

Harley shakes her head. “Not at all. I know it’s not easy being here.”

Babsy laughs again. “It’s not easy being anywhere. This isn’t any harder. It’s always hard. I don’t know why I always get into trouble.”

Harley raises an eyebrow. “Tell me about the first time you got into trouble.”

Babsy thinks for a moment; then she giggles crazily. “I found Daddy's gun when I was six, and I remember thinking, 'I can be like Daddy.' So I fired the gun at a doll who looked like Chucky from that scary movie. BOOM! The doll flew across the room, and the gun knocked my hand back into my face, giving me a black eye.”

Harley cracks up again but quickly collects herself. “Sorry, that’s not funny. Your Daddy must have been so mad.”

“Not really,” Babsy says, then she giggles again and smiles with loving fondness. “I was so scared of what he’d do to me, but he put me on his lap and told me I shouldn't try to be like him or like anyone else. He told me I should find my own future, be my own person, and I have my whole life to figure that out. I immediately decided I wanted to be a superhero, like Batman. But then Daddy replaced the Chucky doll I killed with a Barbie and a three-story Dreamhouse, so I guess he had something else in mind.”

Now tears stream down Harley’s face, too, because she can’t contain the laughter.  “Sorry again, but you can be very funny. I love a sense of humor! Do jokes help you feel better?”

Babsy smiles weakly, happy to make Harley laugh, but she never realized that she uses humor as a coping mechanism, and suddenly, the joke doesn’t seem funny anymore. Babsy doesn’t know how to reply, and a long, awkward silence grows. Anxiously, Babsy touches her neck, then makes sure the top of her shirt is buttoned.

Harley seems to notice everything. She asks, “Isn’t that a school uniform? Private school, right? But you are suspended, so why are you wearing school clothes today?”

“Daddy says that uniforms give people character, whatever that means.”

“Did your Daddy tell you to wear your uniform here today?” Harley asks.

“No … I just thought I was supposed to,” Babsy says awkwardly, but then smiles slightly. “Everyone wears uniforms where Daddy works.”

“Do you visit your Daddy at work often?”

Babsy nods with a wistful smile. “Daddy says I’m old enough now. When my nannies are sick or gone, Daddy sometimes takes me to work with him.”

Harley touches her pen to her lips. “Tell me about that.”

“Daddy is busy there, but he’s always nice to me, and I get to see him work. Everyone is very nice, even the men in jail cells. They are a lot of fun. Uncle Harvey likes to tell me stories about him and Daddy and Batman. Lizzie teaches me judo. Uncle Fox lets me use his computer in the library.”

“What do you do on the computer?” Harley asks.

“Oh…” Babsy pauses and looks away shamefully and adjusts her skirt. “You know … homework.”

Harley waits a moment, in case Babsy wants to say more, but when she doesn’t, Harley moves on. “Tell me about school. Do you have any friends?”

Babsy looks down at her hands. “Not really. I like some of my teachers, but the other kids look at me funny. Like I don’t belong. They think I'm crazy. Nobody talks to me.”

“Do you want them to talk with you?”

Babsy shakes her head. “Sometimes someone will ask me something, but then it hurts like right here,” She presses her palm to her chest, “and I feel like I don’t know how to talk. Sometimes it hurts so bad I start crying, and the other kids make fun of me, and I’m wishing Daddy would save me.”

Harley looks at her with sympathy, then she looks at her clipboard and writes something. “Please tell me about your family, besides your father.”

“There IS nobody else. It’s just Daddy and me,” Babsy says more calmly, as though just thinking of Daddy calms her. She has answered this question about family a hundred times. “My mother died before I was two, so I can’t remember almost anything about her. Daddy was never around then, either. It was like he was a stranger. But Daddy kept lots of pictures in his bedroom of my mom and him and me as a baby. Sometimes I would just hang around in there and look at the pictures, wondering who those strangers were. It was like looking at someone else’s life, wishing it was mine.  I was raised mostly by nannies. Lots of nannies.  I mean, I didn’t even understand that he was my father until I was five. It was like he didn’t want me to know… like he was afraid it would be worse for me if he got killed, and it would be better if I just thought he was some nice guy who came around on Christmas and gave me presents. Then, on my sixth Birthday, he took me trick-or-treating, and that’s when he told me that I had a Daddy. I was so excited, but I didn’t know what having a daddy meant. Other kids talked about their daddies, but my Daddy was different. He was super-nice and fun to be around. But then suddenly he was never around again, and that was really hard. I asked my nannies and the other cops about him, but they got tired of answering my questions. I see him more often, now. Mostly, he comes home while I sleep, but I always make sure I wake up before he does, and I make him breakfast. Then he’s gone all day again.  Every year I get a new nanny. Some of them don’t even speak English. So I go to school and get into trouble all the time and go to detention, and Daddy punishes me when I get home. But he doesn’t even do that anymore. He gets weird, like he won’t even look at me. He just yells at me, and then he won’t talk to me at all. And that’s my life.”

After that long outburst, Babsy suddenly stops talking. The tears have dried up, and she feels a little dead inside. She doesn’t understand why she feels that way. It’s like an emptiness, and a feeling of desperation and hopelessness is bubbling to the surface, but she has no more tears to shed.

Harley smiles reassuringly. “That sounds like a tough life. So NOW I understand why you were smoking pot,” Harley says like it’s a perfectly reasonable thing for a seventh-grader to do.

Babsy laughs thankfully. “I know, right?”

Harley’s eyes probe Babsy, looking her up and down, making Babsy feel self-conscious. Then Harley reaches into a drawer under the table and reveals a pretty, glass bong and a small bag of weed. “Would you like to join me?” she asks mischievously.

Babsy stares in shock and mutters. “But Daddy’s a policeman.”

Harley laughs while packing the bong. “I’m a doctor. Would you like a prescription?”

Babsy laughs in disbelief, but she’s already leaning forward.

Harley lights the weed and takes a deep drag; then she hands Babsy the pipe.

Babsy glances around nervously, half expecting to see Daddy watching her from the doorway. But when she sees they are alone, she takes the bong and inhales deeply and holds the gaseous elixir inside her lungs without coughing. Then she passes the bong back to Harley.

Harley smiles at her, impressed. “Good girl. Do you smoke with anyone at school?”

Babsy shrugs. “Just Katsumi. She gets the stuff from … uh, someone, and she shares it with me.”

“Is she your friend?”

Babsy hesitates, afraid of what Harley means by the word friend. “I like her.  We’re both, like, cry-babies, but she’s bad with English, and she’s into some wild stuff, so we don’t really talk much.”

Harley nods and takes note on how Babsy is framing this relationship, and she asks without any emotion, “Are you into girls?”

Babsy can’t speak for a long time, but Harley is patient, and Babsy eventually says, “I don’t know, but I want to be. I think it might be easier.”

“Really? Why is that?”

Babsy squirms, wanting to avoid the question. “Well, I like boys, and they are cute, but they act so immature around me, it’s a real turn off. I feel more comfortable with girls, but they are different. Not as much fun. So I don’t know.”

“How would you know if you prefer boys or girls?” Harley asks. “What do you think would make the difference?”

Babsy smiles. “A kiss, I guess. I’ve never kissed anyone like I was in love. I think that’s how I’ll know who is right for me.”

Harley laughs. “You’ve watched too many Disney movies, but a kiss is a good start.”

Babsy shifts in her seat uneasily.

“Would you like some mood music?” Harley asks.

Babsy smiles excitedly, wanting to change her mood. “Do you have Marina?”

“What a perfect choice,” Harley flatters, then calls out, “Alexa, play Marina and the Diamonds.”

Babsy jumps when the first notes of “Froot” fill the room from every direction. She smiles as she looks around, trying to find where the speakers are hiding.

The music improves her mood even more than the pot had. Her eyes are half-open, and she is swaying to the rhythm and even singing a couple of verses cheerily.

Harley lets her enjoy it for a moment with a curious smile before saying, “You really like this song.”

Babsy nods.

“Does it mean something to you?” Harley presses.

“Well, Daddy bought me the CD a few weeks ago,” she says with a laugh. “He still buys CDs, can you believe it? I don’t know why he bought it. It wasn’t my birthday or Christmas. But he wrapped it like a present and wrote, 'to my little red gummy bear,' and he gave it to me with a kiss! Then he listened to the whole thing with me on his old stereo and talked about music that he likes.”

Harley nods and hands the bong back to Babsy. “You don’t get many opportunities to learn about your Daddy, do you?”

Babsy shrugs. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m getting to know him better recently, I guess.”

“Why is that?”

Babsy takes a big drag on the pipe and holds it for a moment, then she laughs and coughs. “Well, I listen to the police radio at night when Daddy is doing police shit.”

“Really?” Harley asks while taking the pipe and putting it aside. She picks up a pen again.

“Yeah,” Babsy replies while laying back on the sofa. The weed is taking effect, quickly relaxing her and making her feel a little dizzy. “Daddy has these special police radios, like super-secure, and he left one at home a long time ago. He thinks he lost it, but I hide it in my room. I hear all the big time police stuff. I mean, most of the time my Daddy is doing boring shit, but sometimes it’s like burglars or like super-villains. It is really exciting. Sometimes Daddy gets into trouble, and the Bat-guys come and save him.”

“Really?” Harley asks again, suddenly very interested. “That sounds very stressful. Does it make you worry about your father?”

Babsy shakes her and laughs, giddy from the marijuana. “Nothing ever happens to Daddy! He’s the good guy. He always wins in the end!”

Harley looks at her quizzically. “So … you are saying that your Daddy is a hero, like the Dynamic Duo. He’s always helping people. But do you feel that takes away from him being your father?”

“What do you mean,” Babsy asks, suddenly nervous.

“You describe him more like a hero than a father. You rarely see him, except when you feed him in the morning before he disappears again to his job. How does that make you feel when he is away?”

Babsy struggles to reply through the drug which is now flooding her body. “I … I don’t know. I feel like I’m with him if I leave the radio on at night. I can’t sleep without the radio.”

“Why do you think that is?” Harley asks, trying to get to that deeper truth that Babsy is still hiding.

Babsy looks around like a cornered kitten.

Harley raises an eyebrow. She does that a lot, Babsy thinks.

Then Harley changes her questions to something that might be easier for Babsy to answer. “Tell me more about your Daddy. You know, just some simple facts. I’ve never met the man.”

Babsy laughs nervously. “What, are you like into him or something? Shouldn’t we be talking about me?”

“We ARE talking about you when we talk about your father. It’s how we therapists learn,” Harley replies, amused by Babsy’s deflection. Then Harley asks patiently, “Do you want to talk about something else?”

Babsy shakes her head and closes her eyes and smiles as an image of Daddy appears in her pot-clouded mind. “Well, he’s like over fifty years old. He’s like super famous around here, of course. He’s a Gemini. His hair is blonde and grey. He has scars all over his arms and chest and body hair everywhere. He was always a policeman. He’s brave and always tells the truth. He never does anything bad ... except … I don’t know. But he’s Catholic. He believes in God and forgiveness and all that stuff.”

Harley jumps in, “Do you believe in God?”

Babsy frowns, knowing that her dad wouldn’t approve of her answer. “I don’t know. I like, you know, pray sometimes, but nothing ever happens. I guess I’m not surprised because of the stuff I pray for.  I tried to read the Bible last Christmas, but I couldn’t even get past that first chapter. It is so silly. I mean, don’t you think Adam and Eve is a stupid story?”

Harley smiles. “No, actually I think the Garden of Eden is a brilliant allegory. I really shouldn’t talk about religion here. It’s a big no-no, in my profession, but the story Adam and Eve and the serpent is my favorite creation myth, and everyone gets the moral all wrong.”

Babsy sits up, realizing that Harley is breaking some kind of rule, and it excites her. “What do you mean? Uncle Harvey says those stories are just fables, like Santa Clause and the Easter bunny.”

Harley thinks for a moment, then she asks, “What do YOU think the story is about? What is its moral?”

“I don’t know,” Babsy says, rolling her eyes, embarrassed to take the subject seriously.  “It’s about God making people out of dirt, right? Then he tells the boy and the girl ‘don’t do this,’ and they’re like stupid because they do it, anyway, so he punishes them.”

“What did God order them not to do?” Harley prompts.

“Eat an apple or something,” Babsy replies with a mocking laugh, finding it hard to believe someone as cool as Harley would take this shit seriously.

Harley nods. “Not just any apple, but the fruit that gives knowledge of good and evil.”

Babsy stares at Harley, while she strains her handicapped mind to remember what happened in the Garden of Eden.

Harley continues. “Everyone takes that story on face value, but God put that beautiful tree in the middle of the garden for a reason. Adam and Eve had this comfortable, easy life, living like children, and they could live that way forever if they just never learned about good and evil. If they wanted to remain children, God would protect them and give them what they needed. But being a child is never as easy or fun as adults pretend it is, right?  God was saying that if they ate the forbidden fruit, they would grow up. They could decide what was good and evil for themselves. Life wouldn’t be as easy. It would be more painful and chaotic, but they would be living life on their terms, with self-respect, and that would make all the difference. So Adam and Eve had to choose between an easy life or an adventurous life with all of the pitfalls that go with it. So, you see, God wasn’t punishing them by pushing them from the Garden. He was letting them grow up. He was pushing them from the nest so they would learn to fly and discover the world for themselves.”

Babsy stares at Harley in awe and a little fear. “Wow! That’s … interesting.”

Harley smiles. “Read it again sometime, and ask yourself: which fruit would you eat?”

Babsy laughs, though she’s not sure why. Maybe just because she’s now totally stoned.

“Please don’t tell anyone I told you this story,” Harley says with a naughty sounding whisper. “I could get in trouble if anyone knew I talked about the Bible during therapy.”

“Oh, of course,” Babsy says solemnly, suddenly feeling like Harley’s equal. Now they are sharing secrets. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks. I trust you,” Harley says gratefully, seeming embarrassed, and then she leans forward and whispers. “OK, now, tell me something that nobody knows about you. Something you don’t want anyone to know.”

That’s an exciting but frightening request, so Babsy hesitates and asks. “Can I do a dare, instead?”

Harley laughs. “Maybe later.”

So _truth_ it is, even though Babsy never agreed to play this game. Even so, she grabs the bong and takes yet another deep drag and tries to think of a small truth that Harley might accept – something that won’t be too scary to reveal. But the pot has loosened her up, and Harley looks at her so playfully that nothing seems all that scary anymore. So she gives up the big secret that she can’t get out of her mind because it’s staring her right in the face – quite literally.

“Ok…” Babsy begins. She points at the hidden camera under Harley’s phone and saying, “Well, Daddy has a security system like the one you have here.”

Harley is startled, but quickly she smiles again and presses, “Is that a secret?”

“I guess so,” Babsy says, looking away and feeling a little embarrassed. “But the real secret is how I found out.”

Harley leans forward in a very unprofessional way, making Babsy feel like she’s telling gossip.

“OK, the thing is,” Babsy continues, “my nannies aren’t around as much anymore, so I spend a lot of time home alone, and a few months ago, I was getting frustrated with my computer and phone because they’re loaded with crap like Net-Nanny. I can never visit any fun sites, like we do on Katsumi’s iPad, and I can’t even research stuff for my homework.

“So one day I snuck into Daddy’s bedroom and checked out his Mac computer. It’s old but really nice. Yeah, his computer has a password, but Daddy’s not very smart about these things, and he thought it would be a good idea to use ‘Batman’ as a password. It was the same password he uses for Netflix, and I figured that out a _long_ time ago.

“When I finally got in, I was just going to play some games or, you know, look at some porn,” she giggles like it’s a joke, but Harley’s eyes are intensely curious, so Babsy continues. “But I could always watch that on Katsumi’s computer, and I really wanted to look around. I mean I was in Daddy’s computer, right? -- and I wanted to see what he kept there.

“At first I didn’t find anything fun at all. Just lots of police stuff, so I almost gave up looking, before I found a folder called ‘boring stuff.’ I don’t know why, but I was curious. I mean, everything else looked boring, so this would be super-boring, right?

“Wrong! Daddy had like a hundred pics in there of naked women. Not very good pictures. They looked like they were taken with a phone, and there were only a few women posing for the pictures, and they all kind of looked like your age and size, but they had red hair.

“The thing is all of the photos looked kind of like my mom, if she wasn’t wearing any clothes. That’s really creepy, right?  I never really wondered what my mom looked like naked, but I guess she looked kinda like this. I never thought that Daddy looked at nude photos before, either. He doesn't need to," she says, suddenly upset and even a little jealous. "I know that sounds stupid, but he never, ever talks about sex anymore, and he never even mentions dating anyone.”

“It must have been very disturbing finding those photos,” Harley stated the obvious after listening intently. “What did you do?”

Babsy felt embarrassed. “I copied all of the photos onto my phone. I don’t know why, because it felt really wrong doing it, and I didn’t want to ever see them again. They aren’t like artistic, and they all kind of look like each other. They are just naked women posing with a smile and looking sexy. They aren’t doing anything wild. They are just showing off their butts and boobs, and, oh, I don’t know. But I knew Daddy saw something in them. These pictures made me feel like I didn’t know Daddy at all, and that if I could learn why he kept them, I could understand him a little better.  Is that wrong?”

“Of course not!” Harley reassures enthusiastically. “What did you learn?”

Babsy blushes, but Harley’s excitement is making this embarrassing story fun. She continues, “Well, I was thinking, everyone says I kind of look like my mom, and these pics look like my mom, too. So … I started taking selfies in the bathroom, trying to look like those women.”

“Naked?” Harley asks with a smile.

Babsy rolls her eyes, barely believing she’s having this conversation with an adult, much less her therapist. “Yeah, like completely naked. I learned how to take delayed photos, and I tried to pose just like those pictures in Daddy’s computer. I even tried wearing the same makeup. I thought I looked kind of cute in one shot, so I sent it to Katsumi, to see what she thought. Then we started sending photos back and forth, you know, like a game. That’s what got me in trouble.”

“Do you have those photos now?” Harley asks while writing something on her notepad.

“Yeah, my school principal deleted them from our phones, but it’s still on my cloud drive. Adults forget those are a thing,” she says with a laugh.

“Lots of adults can’t seem to keep up with the times,” Harley agrees, then whispers the dare, “Can I see?”

Babsy hesitates and blushes, but Harley is a cool adult who seems so honest, and Babsy wants her opinion, so she takes out her phone, finds the folder, and passes the phone to Harley.

Then Babsy waits while Harley looks at a photo carefully, zooming in, and then she swipes the screen to look at other photos in the folder. Now Babsy presses her fingernails into her palm and shifts uneasily in her chair. She wasn’t really expecting Harley to look at them all. Some of those photos really shocked the school principal and Daddy, but Harley merely smiles while she admires them..

“These are really nice,” Harley says. “You are a natural photographer and a very pretty girl.”

“Thanks,” Babsy relaxes with a smile, but she suspects that Harley is just being kind. “I know, I barely have any boobs. I mean, what was I thinking? I’m just a kid! I’m not hot like those girls on the computer. Maybe someday.”

“Maybe someday is today,” Harley says boldly. “Many people prefer petite and small, and I think you know Katsumi thinks you are hot, or you wouldn’t be sexting her.”

Babsy smiles shyly, looking away. She can’t quite believe that Harley would approve of all of this. “So … you don’t think I went too far taking these pictures?”

Harley stares at Babsy with knowing eyes. “Oh please! These are nice, but I know you’ve seen what other girls show on the web! These are just run of the mill selfies for kids these days, and you haven’t even shaved! You’ll have to try harder if you want to shock me!”

Babsy laughs, amazed at Harley’s reaction, but she doesn’t like her photos being called “run of the mill,” so she gets back to her story about Daddy’s computer, thinking maybe that will shock the doctor.

“Well, these pictures aren’t even the craziest thing, because a couple of days later I went back on his computer, wondering if I had missed anything the first time, and that’s when I found a folder called ‘Daily surveillance.’ It is filled with videos with weird names, like ‘adapter A’ followed by a bunch of numbers. Anyway, I clicked on one of those videos, and it started playing. At first, I thought it was just a stupid picture of the inside of my kitchen because nothing was moving, until I saw myself walking right into the movie! That’s how I found out that he had cameras hidden in the house!”

“Oh my God!” Harley gasps, sounding more excited than upset.

That was the reaction Babsy wanted, so she smiles and eagerly continues telling her little adventure.

“Well, I found the cameras in the kitchen and living room. They are just like that one you have there. That is a camera, right? And _he_ never even asked if he could record me! Anyway, I thought it would be fun to move the cameras around, pretending like I didn’t know what they were. I’d move it to another socket and charge my phone while it recorded me washing the dishes. Then I brought it in the bathroom and had it record me brushing my teeth. Every time I moved the cameras, the next morning I’d find the cameras moved back to where they started. Finally, I moved one of them into my bedroom, and he left it alone because then he’d have to wake me up to get it,” Babsy finished with a laugh, feeling like she won a battle with Daddy. “I don’t think he wants me to know they exist.”

Harley touches her chin with her pen and says, “So I guess he really looks at those videos, or he wouldn’t know you moved them.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Babsy lies. “That’s kind of weird, right?”

Harley smiles. “I like weird, and if you want to have a little fun with him, that’s okay. He’s asking for it. But the game will get boring unless you do a whole lot more than brushing your teeth.”

“Like what?” Babsy asks, excited by the chance to play a prank.

Harley smiles a little wickedly. “What do **_you_** want to do?”

Babsy shrugs. She's not ready for this question.

Harley waits a moment, clearly having something in mind, but then she says. “You’ll think of something.”

Babsy smiles and blushes and bites her lip nervously. She feels like Harley is giving her a dare, but without spelling it out.

“Oh, I know,” Harley finally says. She unplugs her hidden camera and hands it to Babsy. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

“What?” Babsy asks with a laugh.

“It’s an old saying,” Harley explains. “It means if he can do it, so can you. Just link this to your wifi at home, and you can spy on him, too.”

But then she feels bad, as the angel on her shoulder finally attacks her conscience. “Isn’t that kind of ... childish, though?”

Harley seems disappointed, but then she quickly asks like a therapist again. “What do you mean? You don’t think adults play games?”

“I never play pranks on Daddy, because that’s not the kind of thing he likes,” Babsy lies indignantly, pretending that spying on Daddy would be more of a betrayal than a game. Even so, she puts the camera in her purse, more excited about the idea than she'd confess.

Harley takes the deception in stride and asks, “What kinds of things _does_ he like? What makes your Daddy happy?”

Babsy thinks for a moment then smiles. “I followed him up to the roof of the police station once, because I wanted to get a look at Batman. They meet up there sometimes. Nobody saw me, but I could see them.  Batman was like amazing. The wind was blowing his cape around, and it looked like shadows flapping around. Everything was pitch black, except for that Bat thing on his chest and the little sliver of skin I could see on his face. I thought he looked awesome, but then I saw the big smile on Daddy’s face. And Batman was smiling, too. It was like they were the same, two heroes, and nobody else could understand them. I never saw Daddy happy like that before. I remember trying to get him to play a game with me, and he told me that games and excitement are for kids, and someday I’ll learn that the only satisfaction in life comes from helping people.”

Harley stares at Babsy for a moment, then says, “You are very proud of your Daddy.”

Babsy face is suddenly somber and confused. “Yeah.”

“And your Daddy loves you,” Harley adds, “or else he wouldn’t be monitoring you so closely.”

Babsy nods, not sure how to react.

“And your Daddy wants to you have fun, or he wouldn’t have bought you that CD, or took you trick-or-treating, or told me on the phone that he wanted to see you smiling again,” Harley announces.

Babsy seems shocked. “He said what?”

Harley hesitates. “Don’t tell him I told you, because it’s not really my place to say, but he told me he never sees you smile anymore or have any fun, and he was worried that it was his fault.”

Babsy shivers, trying to digest those words, and she doesn’t realize that tears are welling in her eyes, again. She feels confused, and she blames her frustration on the marijuana. She stammers, “He … I don’t understand … I thought I was the reason he never smiles anymore.”

Harley nods. “I’ve seen you smiling a lot today, and I’m sure he smiles, too, but you both seem afraid to smile when you are with each other. It’s pretty silly, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Babsy says with a confused laugh, then she wipes tears from her eyes and asks. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Everyone feels that something is wrong with them, Babsy, when they keep their fears buried deep inside. What are you afraid of?”

Babsy shakes her head, not wanting to answer, then she blurts out everything except what really frightens her. “I guess I’m afraid I’ll never get bigger. I’m smaller than anyone in my class. I’ve always been small. I feel like there is something wrong with me. I mean, I had my first period almost three months ago, and then another two weeks ago. Shouldn’t they come every month?”

“Eventually,” Harley replies, “Menstruation isn’t so regular at first, but if your body is really what is worrying you, I think I can put your mind at ease right now.”

“Really?” Babsy asks. “How?”

Harley touches her pen to her lips, acting disinterested. She says, “When is the last time you had a physical exam by a doctor?”

Babsy thinks for a moment. “Like … winter time.”

Harley nods. “That was long before your first period. You are going through changes, and now may be time for another physical.”

Babsy looks down. “But I only get a physical once a year.”

Harley smiles. “Not necessarily. I’m a medical doctor, too. I can do it right now.”

Babsy looks surprised. “Really?”

Harley nods and stands up from her chair. She gestures for Babsy to do the same. “Yes. I don’t have any medical equipment here, but I can do the essentials. So just get undressed and we’ll get started.”

Babsy doesn’t move or react. She is paralyzed.

“Don’t worry, Babsy,” Harley says with a gentle laugh. “I do this all the time. Besides, I’ve already seen what you look like naked, so what’s the big deal? But feel free to undress in the bathroom if you’d feel more comfortable and then come out when you are ready.”

Babsy looks down shyly for a moment. This feels wrong, for some reason, but Daddy told her to do whatever her doctor asked, and she can’t think clearly with the marijuana in her head. So she smiles and begins to unbutton her shirt.

Harley politely pretends to check her phone for messages while Babsy undresses.

Babsy tosses her shirt at Harley playfully, surprising her doctor, but since Harley laughs with a big smile on her face, Babsy tosses her skirt and socks at her, too.

The fog of the drug lifts for a moment, as Babsy pauses before removing her underwear. Does Harley really want for her to remove everything?

Then she remembers what led her into Harley’s office in the first place: getting so high and being a slut. And now she’s doing it again.

She fumbles with her training bra, as though removing a training bra is hard, and she looks to Harley for a reaction.

“Here, let me help you,” Harley offers and approaches, standing so close that Babsy can feel the warmth of her body and breath in the gentle scent of her perfume. Harley is not a tall woman, yet she towers over Babsy, making her feel like even more of a child. “Lift your arms, please.”

Babsy obeys and looks away, totally embarrassed and excited, while Harley lifts the undergarment over her head, and her tiny breasts bounce back into place.

Now she is completely exposed, and it reminds her of when her Daddy washed her years ago in the bathtub. He was looking at her the same way Harley looked at her now.

Babsy is grateful that she had showered before coming here, or she doubts she could handle the shame. She doubts for a moment whether Harley ever intended to perform a physical exam.

But then Harley grabs her cell phone and turns on the flashlight. She holds the light up to Babsy’s face and asks, “Please open your mouth.”

Babsy looks up and snaps back into her role as patient. She robotically obeys.

Harley aims the light into the girl’s mouth and presses on her tongue with two fingers. “Say ahhhh.”

Babsy giggles.

Harley keeps a straight face. “This is serious.”

“Ahhh,” Babsy moans her response. Her knees are shaking and Harley’s fingers don’t feel or taste like a tongue depressor.

“Looks good,” Harley says flatly while withdrawing from Babsy’s mouth and extinguishing the light. “Stand up on the ottoman so I can get a better look at you.”

Babsy doesn’t question the command. She takes a deep breath, takes Harley’s hand for support, and suddenly she’s six feet tall!

Harley’s fingers slip under the sides of Babsy’s panties, and Babsy feels a cool trail of her own saliva dragging down her thigh, as her panties are dragged to the base of the ottoman.

Babsy raises each foot, allowing Harley to take the last shred of her decency away.

Now Babsy towers over Harley, which is a strange but pleasant feeling. Babsy is naked, and her doctor is fully clothed, but Babsy feels more confident with her doctor looking up at her.

“Raise your arms,” Harley commands.

Babsy doesn’t hesitate.

Harley gently touches the fine hair under Babsy’s arms, tickling her in the process. Then the doctor pinches the skin gently, as though testing for something.

“You should start shaving here and between your legs,” Harley says in a detached tone and serious eyes, but with a sly smile. “Recent studies have shown that pockets of body hair are bacterial traps.”

“Okay,” Babsy moans quietly, not questioning Harley’s advice.

But now she can see Harley’s eyes more clearly. She is as stoned as Babsy, and she looks just as excited.

“Turn around,” Harley instructs.

Babsy obeys, keeping her arms in the air, and she tries not to laugh nervously when nothing happens behind her for several seconds, and she wonders what Harley is looking at or doing.

Then she feels hands carressing her ass and waist, stroking and petting and pinching mercilessly, and her doctor finally says approvingly, “You are growing fat in all of the right places.”

“Thanks,” Babsy mutters, then winces in embarrassment at what she’s thanking Harley for.

But when Harley’s hands reach around Babsy’s body and cup both of her breasts, she stumbles backwards into Harley, surprised and gasping, but she doesn’t fight or resist. Harley tickles the girl’s plump nipples while she alternates between examining and petting her budding tits. Harley gently blows in Babsy’s ear, sending shivers throughout Babsy’s body, but when she finally dares to question the authenticity of her doctor’s examination, at least in her mind, Harley steps away and picks up her notebook.

“No lumps,” she declares. “Both of your breasts are growing normally.”

Babsy stumbles unsteadily. She is torn between trusting everything Harley says, and calling her a fucking liar.

Harley smiles wickedly as she walks back in front of Babsy and kneels in front of the girl again, so now her eyes are staring at Babsy’s chest, and for a moment Babsy is sure her doctor is going to put her mouth around a nipple and begin sucking.

And, God help her, that is exactly what Babsy wants her to do.

But Harley is just staring at her tiny breasts, then her navel, and then her thighs. She nods and says clinically, “You don’t have anything to worry about, Babsy. You are developing beautifully.”

All at once, Babsy sighs in relief, confusion and frustration, wondering if Harley is serious or just a total tease. She really wishes she hadn’t smoked that pot, now, because she feels like a fucking idiot.

Then Harley finally looks at Babsy’s pussy, and Babsy braces for whatever Harley will say or do next. And if Babsy is reading this all wrong, and Harley is just being an attentive doctor, how the hell is Babsy going to explain how fucking wet she is now?

Suddenly, Harley’s phone vibrates on the hard-wood floor, breaking the silence as completely as if it were ringing.

Harley picks up the phone and says, “Fuck! Sorry, I forgot the time. Your ride is here.”

Babsy looks at the window behind Harley and sees a police car barely obscured by the lace curtain.

“Oh God!” she cries out while covering herself with her hands, as the situation hits her all at once, like getting into a car accident. She feels paralyzed, bracing for impact. She never expected to get into trouble here.

Harley’s professional demeanor seems shattered, as she hurriedly hands Babsy her clothes and repeats, “Well, Babsy, I don’t see anything wrong with you at all. You are a healthy, beautiful, twelve year old girl.”

Babsy fumbles with her clothes, feeling unbalanced and like everything Harley just said was a lie, which she tries to prove by muttering, “I’m still eleven.”

“Excuse me?” Harley asks while she helps Babsy put on her bra.

“My birthday isn’t until Monday,” Babsy reminds her doctor, while she slips into her skirt. She feels stupid for bringing up her birthday right now, but it’s easier than examining what just happened.

Harley smiles. “Oh, that’s great! Then we’ll have to do something special Monday!”

Babsy pauses, still just half dressed, wondering why she is in such a hurry. “Can I stay a little longer?”

Suddenly, the police cruiser outside honks its horn, giving Babsy her answer.

“I would like that,” Harley replies regretfully, “but I don’t think your ride would feel the same way.” Harley picks up her pad of paper and says, “I want to see you again as soon as possible. We’ve got so much more to talk about, but I don’t have sessions over the weekend. I’ll call your father about scheduling our next sessions.”

Babsy swallows. She doesn’t want to leave. The last half-hour had felt like a rollercoaster, but now it feels like Harley is kicking her off the ride, and she desperately wants to continue.

Then Harley surprises her by reaching out for a hug.

Babsy disappears in her arms and melts.

Then Harley whispers, “Listen, I’m chaperoning a Halloween party tomorrow afternoon for the children of Arkham patients. I’d love it if I could take you with me. There will be plenty of girls and boys your age.”

“Really?” Babsy asks with a suddenly hopeful voice.

“Absolutely. Tell your Daddy I think it will be good for you, and it will be fun. I don’t do this with all of my patients. I feel like we are making a connection,” Harley says, sounding very unprofessional, then she adds: “But I have some homework for you to do. Nothing hard. I want you to have some fun. Stop second-guessing yourself. It’s time to grow up. Reach out, and don’t think. Eat the apple. Because there is nothing wrong with you.”

Babsy shakes her head, and tears well up in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Harley smiles gently. “You are going through a lot of changes right now. Hormones really mess with a girl’s feelings at your age, so reality isn’t always what it appears to be. But your feelings are natural and a part of growing. You should go with them, because you are better off making a mistake by following your feelings, than regret never even trying,” she says while guiding Babsy through her office and waiting area and onto the porch.

Babsy quickly turns and hugs Harley tightly again. Then, with a tearful smile, she waves back as she skips to Harvey’s cruiser and hops into the backseat.

Only then does she realize that she forgot to put on her panties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up — Joker speaks!


	3. Bad Doctor

Harley waves at the little girl as the cruiser pulls out of the driveway and accelerates. She watched the police officer closely, worried that he’d see how flushed Babsy’s face is, or notice that she stumbled into the car, or hear her giggling. Fortunately, this officer isn’t much of a detective and doesn’t have much interest in Babsy, or he’d quickly discover that she’s zonked. She only lives about a mile away, so if she doesn’t talk, maybe he’ll never notice.

Harley stumbled back into her home, feeling a bit dopey herself. Harley doesn’t handle pot very well, despite plenty of experience, and Babsy smoked more than she did! Fortunately, Harley’s schedule is open for the next hour, and before the pot makes her forget, she immediately cancels the rest of her appointments for the day, claiming a family emergency.

Then she gets to work, because stoned or not, she needs to move a mountain in a short period.

First, she grabs a Coke from the fridge and her laptop from the study, and she plops her ass on the sofa in the living room. She finishes half of her drink before the computer boots up, and she logs into her cloud drive. She smiles when she sees that her cameras were working as planned.

Babsy discovered one of her cameras, but Harley has two more in her office and a few others in other rooms. Her camera’s captured Babsy’s sessions in their entirety from two angles in high definition.

Harley quickly trims away ten minutes that Joker would find boring, but she doesn’t touch the grand finale, because she knows that will leave his mouth watering. She can’t take a chance of him losing interest, so she puts that part of the video in front, and lets him see the scene from both cameras, not wanting to edit out anything.

As she watches herself groping Babsy on the computer screen, trying to put on a show for her Puddin, she realizes how much she lost control of herself. She knows how excited Joker will be when he sees this girl, and that made her feel the same excitement. Harley is very fluid sexually, fancying anything her lover fancies, and she feels lucky that the cruiser arrived when it did. Otherwise, she would have gone as far with Babsy as the little girl would let her, and by all signs, Babsy was open to anything. They were both so stoned that the voice of caution that usually protects girls was completely muted.

Mistah J will love what he sees. Girl on girl really gets him hot. But he wouldn’t like it if Harley got the first crack at the young virgin. Being first is part of his kink. He will want to ruin Babsy for anyone else, just like he did with Harley.

Finally, after nearly a half-hour of editing, Harley feels happy with her first soft-core Lolita porno.

She pastes a link to a text message and writes:

"Hey, Puddin’, you better get up off yer ass and check this out! I got the girl! She’s perfect!"

Then she clicks send.

Despite being made to wait again and again, Harley is not a patient woman. She has a very busy day ahead of her if she wants to be ready for that party with Babsy tomorrow, but she can’t plan anything until she knows exactly what her Puddin’ thinks. All she can do is worry.

Will he even check his messages?

He never responds anymore. Maybe he blocks Harley’s number.

A micro expression of panic tremors over her face, but she quickly suppresses it. That possibility is unthinkable.

Harley desperately wishes she could be with her Joker right now, wherever he is, to share this moment with him. Harley loves the look in his eyes when they find something he thinks is so beautiful. His jokes fail him, and his defenses collapse. Longing fills his eyes, as though such a vision can bring him back to the simple pleasures of a pivotal time in his life.

But maybe Harley screwed up.

This is the girl he has been waiting for. Harley is confident. But her bae is a bit of a wild card, so nothing is a sure bet. She needs to set the stage and introduce Babsy to Joker in the best possible way.

Everything could turn on Babsy’s teary eyes. Mistah J is totally turned on by tears and moaning, but he’s just as turned off by whining. If he interprets her considerable angst as whining, then it’s back to the drawing board.

So the video she sent him is more of a pitch than a treat.

Now, twenty minutes later, Harley waits for Mistah J to check his messages.

And she waits a little longer.

And just when she’s about to lose her mind and text him again, she hears the familiar, laughing ringtone on her phone, and she answers instantly.

“Hello Puddin,” she says playfully. “Like what you see?”

“The fucking police commissioner’s daughter?” he asks incredulously, sounding more shocked than pleased, but then he cackles and claps his hands like a maniac.

“I know, right? And she’s jealous of Batman! She’s funny, and she loves to laugh! But she’s also a cry-baby. She thinks she wants to be a good girl, but really she's more like us! She actually longs to be spanked by her daddy! She is open to any suggestion! I had her so flustered, she forgot these Hello Kitty panties when she left my office!” Harley gushes while texting a photo of the souvenir.

"She's perfect!" Joker gushes proudly then giggles enthusiastically in Harley's ear. Then he adds longingly, “Why is she’s so small? She looks like a toy!”

“Right? She’s about four and a half feet tall, sixty to seventy pounds,” Harley celebrates.

Then he growls, “I love the red hair, but you know I only like it on their heads—not even peach fuzz anywhere else!"

“Of course, Puddin’, and after I messed with her, I’m sure the sight of pubic hair makes her sick, now,” Harley explains proudly. "Her pussy will be as smooth as a baby's by tomorrow, I guarantee it."

“How did I miss this little morsel? She was meant for me, and it will drive her Daddy insane!” he insists, then he breaks out into beautifully orgasmic laughter. When he settles down again, he demands. “I need to see more, Harl!”

“Patience, Puddin’!” she says teasingly. “And guess what? I’m taking her to a costume party tomorrow with some of my Arkham boys and girls at the Arkham Juvenile Center. You know what that means! Cameras will be everywhere, but lots of private areas, and nobody will know who anyone is!”

She delights in the frustration and admiration in his almost continuous laughter, and then he says affectionately, “Make my dreams come true, you little cunt!”

 


	4. Good Cop, Bad Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call with Daddy

"How can we tell one criminal from their copycat?" the rookie asks James Gordon.

"It can be tough," the commissioner explains. "The clues can be found in the motives. There are motives all offenders want you to see, motives they want to hide, and motives they aren't even aware of. So before you examine the clues, examine the motives."

The rookie nods and doesn't ask any follow-up questions, as though doing so would be greedy, and he goes back to examining the scene.

James Gordon paces the taped-off room of the Gotham City museum while his detectives look for clues concerning the theft of several priceless Atlantean pearls. Selina Kyle is the obvious suspect, but James has to build a case, regardless, because of the possibility of a copycat Catwoman. Lately, it seems Gotham has been inundated by imposters. Twice recently, James' detectives thought they were on the trail of the recently escaped Joker only to discover that two new Jokers had arisen from the Gotham underworld, copying the Joker’s style and even his appearance. Those were easy for James to identify by merely examining their motives, but then a new Scarecrow has been spotted on the streets even while another remains in Arkham, and James still isn’t sure which is the original. Even new vigilantes are appearing with striking similarities to the more well-known heroes. It seems that the new generation of celebrity criminals and crime fighters have no fresh ideas.

Adding to the confusion, Sunday will be Halloween, and the city will be overrun with copycats throughout the weekend. Of course, many will be trick-or-treaters and partiers with no sinister intent, but in recent years, real criminals have used this day as camouflage for their nefarious acts, and the GCPD has had to increase their presence across the city.

James doesn’t like to think about that. For several years now, Halloween has been the one day he always takes off from work, because his daughter’s birthday is on November 1, and he always takes her trick-or-treating and stays with her until she blows out the candles at midnight. It has been the one day he puts aside just for her, so they can be like real family, but these fucking copycats threaten to steal even that from them.

James knows he hasn’t been a good father, which is sometimes an understatement. Babsy's birth was both a blessing and a curse. Babsy is a constant reminder of her beautiful mother, but she is also a reminder of the nightmare that led up to her mother's death. James never blamed Babsy for what happened, but he couldn’t look at her for the first few years of her life without sinking into depression. 

Then a traumatic event forced him to stay at home for a few days and spend time with his then six-year-old daughter. He was embarrassed how little he knew about her. She had her mother’s eyes, hair and mannerisms. She had the same awkward laugh. She even had that signature habit of sucking on a spoon long after the food was gone.

Those similarities were both adorable and disturbing, and he realized that he needed to connect with his daughter in a more meaningful way. She was entering and leaving his life like a poorly followed TV show, where he’d stumble upon an episode every once in a while, and before he knew it, the child actor had aged five years. Except this was his daughter, and it’s so sad that he needs to keep reminding himself of that.  

Still, duty kept on calling, and he left her in the care of one nanny after another, and she remained on the peripheral of his life, until two years ago when she ran away from home. Harvey took charge of the search because he said James was “too close to the case,” but she showed up at home again two days later on her own.

James was overcome by guilt, because he most definitely was NOT too close to the case. He was sure that she ran away because of him. He finally decided that he couldn’t let his daughter’s whole life pass by without being a part of it.  He needed to man-up, put his own issues aside. He needed to carve more time for her out of his ever-full schedule, even if it was only a few minutes for breakfast each day.

And those brief moments in the morning have made him realize that he missed almost her entire childhood! Babsy is already at that troubling age of transformation that can be beautiful or monstrous. James is frightened for her and for himself. Her latest escapades at school only proved that it’s time for an intervention. He has seen so many lives, including his own, wrecked by bad decisions and deceit, and he will do anything to protect her from the same fate. He can’t let the darkness of life infect her as it has infected him. Darkness surrounds him every day, but he will never let it touch her, even if the darkness is coming from James himself.

While he examines some key evidence in the museum with one of his detectives, his cell phone rings with the word “HOME” spread across the screen.

“I have to take this,” he says and quickly leaves the police work to his subordinates as he seeks privacy on the other side of the large room. Then he answers his phone on the fourth ring:

“Hello?”

“Daddy!” Babsy says giddily with an effervescent voice that tickles his heart.

“Hi Babsy, how was your session?” he asks, fighting the way his heart accelerates when he hears her voice. 

“Doctor Harley is really nice. I really like her,” she gushes.

“Did she help you?” he probes.

“Uh, I guess so,” Babsy says, suddenly evasive.

“Did you do everything she asked you to do?” he accuses like he thinks a good parent would do.

“Yeah … She gave me some homework … kind of,” she says reluctantly.

“Good!” James says, always approving of homework. It helps children keep their minds right even when nobody is watching them. Discipline is important. “Do it tonight. Does she want to see you again?”

“Yeah, she wants to see me Monday,” Babsy says, a little more enthusiastically. “She said she’ll call you.”

“Oh, okay,” James says, a little disappointed that Babsy needs any more help, but happy otherwise about what he’s heard. “I’m proud of you, Babsy, for doing this and taking this seriously. This is very mature of you. Does she know Monday is your birthday?”

“Yeah,” Babsy says quietly, then stops talking.

“What is it, Gummy Bear?” James asks gently, worried by the silence.

“Uh, it’s just that Doctor Harley invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow with some other kids,” Babsy says with mixed emotions. “Can I go? I know you wanted to be with me this weekend.”

“Oh Babsy, that’s great! Of course you can go,” James says, also with mixed emotions. “You know this weekend will be busy for me, anyway, but I promise we’ll spend do some trick-or-treating, and then celebrate your birthday. But before then, absolutely, yes, you can go to the party. I think your princess costume is still in the basement.”

“Thank you Daddy!” Babsy exclaims with delight, not bothering to remind her Daddy that the princess costume is four years old and would never fit. “I love you!”

“I love you, too,” James says flatly, and he’s about to hang up, but he can hear her breathing irregularly on the other end of the phone. “Is there anything else, Babsy?”

“Uh…” Babsy begins, then is quiet for a moment. “I was wondering. I don’t know. I think maybe …”

“What is it, Gummy Bear?” James asks, feeling concerned by her hesitation.

“Daddy … is it okay if I like girls?” she finally asks uncertainly.

James is stunned, and he doesn’t reply immediately.  He feels a moment of panic and even jealousy. The possibility of his daughter being a lesbian never occurred to him, despite the fact that she had been hanging out with a girl and sexting her for weeks.

“I’m sorry,” Babsy says sadly on the other end.

“No, Babsy, it’s fine. Is that what your doctor thinks?”

“I don't know,” Babsy says quickly, then pauses again. “I was just  … wondering.”

James takes a deep breath then says, “Babsy, it doesn’t matter who you are attracted to. I only want you to be happy. Okay?”

“Oh ... okay,” Babsy says, sounding confused, and again she says with emphasis, “I love you so much Daddy!”

He relaxes and smiles.

“Love you, too, Gummy Bear” he replies very affectionately, and he waits for her to hang up before putting his phone back into his pocket.

He pauses and thinks about the call.  Was he behaving like a normal father would behave? He knows he hesitated too long with his encouragement over her bombshell. Wouldn’t any normal parent do the same thing? Besides, he feels like he saved the conversation at the end.

Yet he feels that prickly feeling on his neck, telling him to think again. He goes over everything Babsy said on the phone in his mind and how she said it, trying to find the cause of his foreboding intuition, but he can’t place it. Finally, he walks back to the job at hand. His intuition has failed him a lot lately, especially where Babsy is concerned, but the only thing he knows for sure about puberty and adolescents: the parents are never in control, and sometimes they just need to let the kids figure things out for themselves.

Then maybe he'll figure things out for himself, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next:  
> "Come, if you're curious to see,  
> Pull the tricks out of my sleeve,  
> All you find is yours to keep,  
> Brave, are you brave enough to meet,  
> The desires that you seek"
> 
> \--The Rigs


	5. Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babsy rides out her drug induced high, and makes a shocking discovery

Babsy drops the handset to the home phone on the bathroom rug beside her, cursing Daddy for not knowing her better or for not immediately accepting her suggestion that she might be a lesbian. She’s not sure why she’s upset, but her angst is short-lived because, after a few seconds, she’s already forgotten everything: the curse and the blessing of marijuana.

She shifts her position on the floor in front of the portable mirror. Then she opens her legs as wide as she can, and she takes Daddy’s razor and shaving cream and gets back to her homework.

She’s been at it for God knows how long since the rookie officer dropped her off at home. She was so afraid he’d know she was stoned that she wouldn’t dare to even look at him, and she only said, “Thank you,” when he dropped her off in front of her home, and she quickly escaped inside.

The first thing she had thought to do was put on panties, but she forgot all about that when she lifted her shirt and saw the puff of blondish-red gossamer hairs on her pussy. She had been proud of those hairs when they first appeared almost a year ago, taking it as a sign that she was growing up. But then recently Katsumi said she shaved hers off, and now her doctor essentially made fun of her for keeping her little tuft of fur, so suddenly just seeing those hairs made her feel like insects were crawling on her body.

She stripped down and set to shaving, starting with her underarms. She was surprised at first that she nicked her skin several times, drawing a few drops of blood, but when she applied shaving cream first, she found shaving her underarms was easy. Shaving her pussy started easily enough, too, but then she realized how challenging it is to get to the hairs deep down near her butt. Finally, she put a towel on the rug in the bathroom and grabbed the mirror from her bedroom. Now she can see everything. She never knew what she looked like down there before, and it’s kind of fascinating.

After she finishes with her pussy, she starts shaving her legs, even though her leg hairs were almost invisible. She’s focused like she’s on a mission, but really she just wants to keep herself occupied until the pot wears off. She’s developing a reputation for doing stupid things when stoned.

Finally, she sweeps up all of the hairs and takes a long shower.

When she gets out and dries off, she forgets what she was doing before, until she gets dressed. Her pussy is pink from the razor and all of the attention she was giving it, so she forgoes the panties, on purpose this time, and decides to wear one of Daddy’s white t-shirts. It’s so large on her, it goes down almost to her knees and hangs loosely on her shoulders.

She chows down two bowls of cereal, as an appetite hits her from out of nowhere, and then she decides to do her second homework assignment.

She opens her purse and removes the tiny camera Harley gave Babsy. On the plug side of the little cube, she finds the tiny instructions, telling her to download an app to her phone to set the camera up with Daddy’s wi-fi.

After a few, frustrating minutes, she finally gets the little light on the front of the adapter to blink, which means it’s connected. She’s proud of herself for getting it right the first time, but she forgets the second part of the installation – telling it where to send the video.

She puts the camera on the bureau across from Daddy’s computer, knowing he’ll never see it among the TV and home entertainment system he put there years ago which she’d never seen him use.

“OK, Daddy, you asked for it! I’ve done all my homework!” she says to herself with a laugh, as she steps back and looks at the hidden camera. Even knowing where it is, she can barely see it.

She turns around, ready to leave, until she notices Daddy’s computer again, and she tries to remember what she did when she arrived back home. If Daddy looked at his surveillance videos, would he be able to tell that she was stoned? She logs into the computer and starts looking for the latest video, but halfway through the search, she’s already forgotten what she was looking for.

Instead, she’s back to spying on Daddy.

She thinks she’s found everything there is to find, but maybe he has some fun games hidden away. There has to be a fun side to him hidden in there somewhere.

While she searches, she sees a shortcut to Firefox. She’s not sure what that is. Maybe a game? She’d never heard of that web browser before.

But what she finds there makes her jaw drop. Daddy’s homepage for this browser is Pornhub.

She walks away from the computer for a moment until she thinks maybe she was imagining things. The pot must have confused her. But when she sits back down, the search bar for Pornhub is still there waiting.

She clicks “bookmarks” on the toolbar, and his treasure spreads out before her, leaving her in complete shock. She scrolls down a few links, but the progress bar barely moves, as though the list goes on forever.

Babsy covers her mouth with one hand while she clicks on the first entry: “Bored teen student solo.” After a moment of buffering, a girl wearing a school uniform, just like the uniform Babsy wears to school every day, lifts her skirt and pleasures herself in an empty schoolroom. There isn’t much more to it, except for the girl moving around and moaning, but Babsy watches the video all the way through.

She scrolls through a few pages of links and clicks on “Redheaded 18 year old Lolita Jailbait.” The girl that appears on screen doesn’t look much older than Babsy herself, despite the video claiming she is eighteen, and Babsy watches in shocked disbelief as the girl kneels in front of a man, opens his pants and puts his huge cock in her mouth. Babsy turns her head halfway, not wanting to see, but she never actually looks away while the Lolita expertly sucks and licks the man’s cock until his spunk splatters on her smiling face and mouth. When the porn star licks her lips clean, tears fall from Babsy's eyes.

Babsy feels a moment of panic as she scrolls through some more links, and the titles are somehow more disturbing the further she goes through the list.  She briefly checks out “Redhead creampie”, “Petite teen tied up”,“schoolgirl gangbang”, “young redhead humiliated,” and the last link she visits is called “Daddy gives a spanking.”

At this point, Babsy can barely see through her tears. She closes Firefox and logs off, then she rushes in her room and lies on the bed and cries into her pillow. She remembers after a moment that one of Daddy’s cameras is pointing at her at this very moment, but she doesn’t care. She hopes Daddy sees her crying, and then maybe he’ll feel ashamed of himself. How could Daddy punish her for sexting when he has piles of such raunchy videos on his computer? And not just any videos, of not just any girl. A girl who looks a lot like Babsy herself! Not her mom. Her!

She screams in a jealous rage. Why does he even need these videos?

Babsy can’t possibly deny it anymore: Daddy fantasizes about having sex with her! He wishes to watch his daughter masturbate, give him a blowjob, tie her up, maybe fuck her with another guy, embarrass her before his friends, and then give her a spanking.

That last revelation is what bothers her most, though, because since she was six and until just a few months ago, Daddy always spanked her when she did something bad. He would sit down, lean her over his knee, raise her skirt and spank her. Before he finally stopped punishing her this way, his spankings felt different. Less forceful. He would gently touch her ass before striking it, and when his punishment was over, he would caress her ass gently, even brushing over her cotton-covered pussy with his fingers, before releasing her.

Babsy doesn’t remember when the punishment changed, because it happened over a long time. It was unthinkable that he meant to punish her in a sexual way. Unthinkable, but she always knew it was true while she played the game, pretending that he was only trying to comfort her after giving her a well-deserved punishment.

But for Babsy herself, those spankings always felt sexual. Sometimes she would get in trouble just so he would spank her. That’s not what she told herself, but she can’t say it was unconscious, either. It was just like a fun prank to get Daddy’s attention.

So while Babsy cries into her pillow, she admits to herself that Daddy’s desire for her was never one way. She always wore the clothes he liked. He likes her in pink, so that became her favorite color. He likes her hair down, so she always wears it down. She catches him looking at her legs in the morning, so she always wears miniskirts or hot pants while she makes him breakfast.

So he fantasizes about her, but she has been flirting with him for a long time, so how can she blame him? Isn't this her fault?

Finally, the truth clarifies in her mind, she has to admit that despite the shock and anger she felt watching those video clips, she never felt disgusted. She wanted to keep looking, and now that the initial shock is over, she replays the porn clips in her head, imagining that Daddy is watching Babsy do the same things the girls were doing in the video, and she relaxes.

Her heart is pounding in her chest.

Babsy can't decide if she wants to give Daddy what he deserves, or give him what he wants.

Babsy rolls over on the bed and sits up. She knows she is directly in front of Daddy's camera now. She looks past her feet and sees where the electric eye is looking back. That is Daddy’s eye.

Daddy had watched her climb into bed for several days, since she put the camera there. She has no doubt of that now. What is he thinking when he watches her? When she changes her clothes, does he pause the video and replay it over and over?

She lets her gaze drift slowly away from the camera. She doesn’t want him to know that she knows about the cameras or the surveillance or that she has been peeping back at him by looking into his computer.

And she doesn’t want him to look at other girls anymore. He must only look at her.

She lifts the t-shirt over her head and tosses it beside her on the bed, leaving her completely naked, and giving Daddy a good look at her tiny breasts. Then she lays back down and spreads her legs for the camera, inviting Daddy to look at her freshly shaved pussy.

Another thing she noticed in his porno stash was that all of the girls were shaved. Was this destiny?

Her body feels very warm now, and her heart is pounding in her chest, as though Daddy was watching her right now, instead of in the secrecy of night later on.

She learned a lot about what Daddy likes from those videos.

She closes her eyes and pretends Daddy is controlling her hands, as she caresses up her leg starting with the knee, up her inner thighs, then over her belly and finally stopping on her tiny tits. She licks her fingertips and then draws little circles around her nipples, imagining how Daddy would react. Then she pinches her nipples, imagining Daddy is nibbling on them, and she feels her hips quake and an oozing feeling between her legs. She touches her pussy with one hand and is surprised by how wet she is. She has never been this wet before. She spreads her pussy flow all over the pussy lips, and when she imagines what her Daddy will feel when he sees her excitement, her pussy gushes yet again.

She doesn’t realize she is moaning, but Daddy will know if he turns up the volume.

Babsy then turns over, making sure to stay in the camera frame, and she props her ass up high. She reaches around and pulls her ass cheeks apart, opening her pussy wide at the same time, giving Daddy the dirtiest, most sexual visual she can imagine. That sends Babsy into a near sexual frenzy, as she moves one hand inside to her clit and strokes her pussy lips rapidly until she cries out “Oh Daddy” again and again until the earth-shattering orgasm finally subsides. She had no idea she could come this hard.

As soon as her last orgasm fades, she immediately panics and rushing into Daddy’s room to find and delete the video. But when she selects the video and touches the delete button, she pauses, then she shuts down the computer, leaving the bomb there for him to find.

She decides to watch TV for a few hours, but she has no idea what she’s watching because she can’t get Daddy’s videos and her own out of her mind. Every half hour or so, she walks into his room, again determined to delete her video, if just to give herself some peace of mind, but she never does.

When finally it is bedtime, she turns up the heat and leaves her bedroom door open. She sleeps naked and splayed out on her bed on top of the covers, hoping Daddy is so turned on that he will want to fuck her.

She doesn’t expect to fall asleep. She worries about everything. Maybe she won’t be enough to satisfy him. Maybe it will hurt. Maybe this will ruin the rest of her life. That’s a lot of worries to deal with, yet somehow she falls asleep, tossing and turning and dreaming of every sexual act she saw in Daddy’s videos, and how she fits into those fantasies.

Then a sound wakes her suddenly in the middle of the night, and the first thing she notices is that she is covered in sweat, and pussy is soaking wet. She notices that she is covered by a blanket that isn’t even hers, and the door to her room is closed. So Daddy saw her lying naked there, and he turned away.

Then she understands what sound woke her from sleep. It was a door closing. Not the door to the room, but the door to the house.

She grabs her blanket and hurries out of bed, using the blanket as clothing.

“Daddy?” she shouts as she hurries to the kitchen, then the living room, and finally she stops at his bedroom, pauses, then slowly opens the door.

His computer is still warm. She looks for the most recent video entry, but it has been deleted.

Everything is suddenly clear to her, and she starts crying. Daddy never wanted to see her that way, and now he is probably disgusted with her.

Now maybe he’ll administer the worst punishment of all: he’ll give up on her. Maybe he’ll even commit her to Arkham.


	6. Bad Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babsy and Harley play phone tag.

Harley gets a call at 4:34 AM. She always keeps her phone on the bed with her, in the unlikely case her Puddin’ calls her in the middle of the night. But her phone doesn’t recognize this early morning caller, so it goes straight to voicemail.

Two hours later, as she is brewing a cup of coffee, she asks Alexa to play her voicemail, forgetting for a moment that she needs to invoke Siri. She feels oddly guilty for a moment, as though she is disrespecting the virtual, female servants. Even in the world of artificial intelligence, females get no respect.

Finally, Siri plays her 4:34 AM voicemail, and Harley completely forgets about the freshly brewed coffee dripping from her machine.

She hears Babsy’s voice begging for her to pick up. Harley gives her favorite patients her cell phone number, but none of them ever called before except to schedule an appointment, and of course never at such an hour.

She hears Babsy babbling crazily. “You told me to go with my feelings! You said there is nothing wrong with me! I did everything you said, and now my life is over! I just want to die!”

Harley’s first thought is that Babsy killed herself because Harley missed the call, and now her Puddin’ will be so disappointed.

But Babsy goes on, calming down considerably as she recalls what she had done last night in amazing detail for a girl who was still high even several hours after they had smoked pot in the afternoon.

Harley is stunned by Babsy’s story. Of course, Harley knew that Babsy had an unresolved Electra complex, with a sexual fixation on her father, but she never expected her famous father to share her forbidden desires, or that the little girl would throw herself at him like that. Of course, she was very young, and between the pot she was smoking and the small doses of MDMA Harley put in her drinking water, Babsy wasn’t quite herself at the time.

While Babsy recounts her dramatic tale to the digital recorder, she gradually realizes that her situation isn’t as bad as she first worried. Daddy had shown no sign of being angry with her, and he had even covered her naked body. Babsy still felt ashamed about what she had done, and she felt disappointed that her Daddy turned down her invitation, but Harley could also sense a feeling of hope returning to Babsy’s attitude before the voice machine slammed into its three-minute time limit and cut Babsy off.

Harley nearly made the mistake of hitting “call back,” but then she realized she needed to think about this some more.

She added cream and sugar to her coffee and sipped slowly, trying to decide if this turn of events was good news or bad news for her plans.

She needed to learn more, and she knew where to look first for information.

While Babsy was recounting what she did yesterday, she mentioned installing the hidden camera in her father’s room, and then blamed Harley for giving her a defective camera, because it didn’t seem to work.

Indeed, Harley was to blame. The camera did in fact work, but the recording didn’t go where Babsy had expected it to. Instead, the recording went through Babsy’s Wi-Fi and up into the cloud. Harley’s cloud, to be exact. That was how the camera was set up, and Babsy merely moved the camera to a new location without changing anything else.

Harley walks to her living room and opens her computer, which is already running Harley’s security program. With a click of her mouse, Harley opens the feed from the seemingly broken camera.

Only two events were recorded last night, among many hours of inactivity compressed into a few seconds:

First, the camera recorded Babsy plugging the camera in, followed quickly by Babsy checking out the newly discovered porn on Daddy’s computer.

Second, Daddy came home, stretched out, stripped to his underwear, and then performed what is likely a nightly ritual of watching his daughter on camera.

Harley sees Commissioner James Gordon, a highly respected man in Gotham, sitting on a swivel chair, watching his very young daughter sitting on her bed a few hours ago. Gordon is facing away from the camera, but Harley can see most of what he is watching from over his shoulder, and she can determine his feelings from just his hand and leg movements. His large computer screen shows up clearly through the high-definition camera. When he sees his daughter suddenly get undressed, his body straightens up. When Babsy begins to masturbate, he leans forward for a closer view. After an awkward start, Babsy escalates her show, mimicking the seductive moves she learned from her Daddy’s porn for the previous hour.

Her Daddy pauses the video and stands up. He presses his hands against the back of his head and paces around the room with a hard-on that his briefs cannot contain.

Then, suddenly he leaves the room, seemingly with a mission.

According to the camera’s clock, he returns three minutes later, more excited than when he left. His clothes are now completely off. Harley puts together what she’s seeing with what Babsy told her, and she realizes that this good cop must have undressed in his daughter’s room! But now, in the recording, he is back in his own room, wiping his brow with one hand while jerking off with the other.

He sits back on the chair and resumes the video of his daughter from hours earlier. Babsy is in full heat, calling out her Daddy’s name, and even from Harley’s twice removed vantage, she could see how wet Babsy is on the screen.

Daddy only needed a few seconds before he exploded. Harley could see his cum shoot up like she didn’t think possible – like his body had been holding it in for years.

Harley feels wet herself, wishing she made her Puddin’ feel that way at least once in her life!

Then Daddy settles down, and his emotion changes dramatically.

Harley stiffens when she sees him take out his pistol, pondering what he has done, and he begins to cry.

Finally, he puts his gun away, gets dressed, and he takes a blanket off of his bed. He leaves the room, and that’s where the video ends.

Harley watches the video again and tries to figure out whether this dramatic turn of events is good or bad for her plans with Joker.

On the plus side, Babsy is clearly a cherry bomb!  She is turning out to be an even more perfect gift for her Puddin’ than Harley had dreamed. She’s exactly the kind of contradiction that he loves. She’s an angel and a devil fighting it out in a little girl’s body. A perfect plaything.

On the negative side, she is a gift that would have been completely ruined if Babsy’s plan to seduce her father had succeeded. Mistah J is not keen on second-hand gifts. Only yesterday, Babsy was very confused sexually, and now she is tapping into her suppressed, incestuous feelings towards her father. Those feelings will be useful for Harley’s plans later on, but for now, Harley needs to keep Babsy confused. Events need to occur in a specific order with specific timing. Like her Puddin’ always says, a joke is all about timing.

Harley turns the events and possibilities around in her mind, and within a few minutes, she feels back on top of things.

Finally, she presses “call back” on her phone, and this time, Harley is the one sent to voicemail. She would have preferred that Babsy picked up, but Harley is not deterred.

“Hi Babsy, it’s Doctor Quinzel. I listened to your message from this morning. I hope you are not still upset. You did nothing wrong, but I don’t think either you or your Daddy are ready to make such a big change in your relationship, yet. Your Daddy understands this, and that is why he passed up your invitation. He is much more experienced about these things, and he will never consider an intimate relationship with you until you can meet him at a more equal level. Do you understand? Anyway, it’s nothing to worry about, and if he begins to see that you are growing up in every way, he’ll eventually come around. We can talk about this more when you come by in a few hours. You still want to go to that Halloween party, don’t you? Don’t give me any excuses, like you don’t have a costume. I’ve already got the perfect thing picked out for you! I expect to see you at 4 PM. I promise you’ll have fun!”

Harley smiles, feeling like she nailed the message.

Then she looks at the clock and feels a bit hurried. Babsy won’t be at her house for another eight hours, but Harley has a lot of work to do before then. She can’t leave anything to chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, NOW we finally go to the party.
> 
> This story might run a little longer than I first expected.


	7. Bad Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babsy and Harley dress up for the party, and Harley controls Babsy like a marionette. She could pull the girl's strings with hypnosis, but Harley knows a better way.

Babsy feels better after hearing Dr. Harley’s message, but she is not in the mood for a party today. She is not in the mood for more disappointments.

Harley is really smart. She makes it seem like being in love with Daddy is just one more growing pain she needs to deal with. Babsy has already learned to live with her period and all of these confusing sexual feelings, and she’ll learn to deal with this, too. On the bright side, a lot of her classmate have to deal with horrible acne, and being in love with Daddy isn’t nearly as bad as that!

She wishes she knew how he felt when she laid it all on the line last night. Did he feel like he felt when he watched those pornos? Or did he take one look at her naked body and cover his eyes in disgust? Well, if that’s the case, she never wants to know!

So Babsy doesn’t want to think about anything today. The more she thinks, the more she worries, and as Harley says, that’s a waste of time and emotion. So she spends almost all morning watching boring TV or cleaning the house, and then after lunch, she fills the tub with water almost too hot for her to touch, and she slowly lowers herself into the steaming bubbles. When she finally adjusts to the heat, she browses her favorite blogs on her phone for almost two hours, until the water turns lukewarm and her skin turns a whitish pink, as though the epidermis is melting away.

That’s when she is startled by a car horn honking outside. She ignores the sound and continues following her blog, but then her home phone rings. She sighs and climbs out of the tub. She wraps herself in a towel and walks to the kitchen. She lifts the telephone receiver on the tenth ring.

“Hello?”

“Miss Gordon?” an impatient voice asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’m your Lyft to Doctor Quinzel’s office,” the voice says.

“What?” Babsy asks, startled. She has mixed feelings about the party, and she would have been content spending the rest of the day vegetating.

“The doctor promised me a big tip if I get you to her office, so don’t give me any trouble,” the driver says sharply, as though Babsy will be stealing money from him if she doesn’t go.

“Oh,” Babsy utters, feeling anxious about making any decision, but then she remembers how much she wanted to go to this party yesterday. “Okay, but give me a couple of minutes.”

She hears a groan on the other end, then he mutters. “Sure.”

Babsy quickly brushes her hair. She applies pink lipstick, because she feels naked without it, and she hurries into an identical school uniform to that she wore yesterday. She immediately feels like such a nerd after how Doctor Harley described her clothes, but it’s the only ensemble she has readily available.

Then she hurries to the car, apologizing to the Lyft driver for making him wait.

The driver burns rubber in frustration, complaining under his breath. Babsy isn’t paying him, so he feels no need to show her any respect.

He drives much faster and brakes much harder than Babsy feels comfortable with, and he pulls into Harley’s driveway before Babsy has an opportunity to complain. Then he stares at the phone attached to the car dashboard, and his attitude immediately changes.

“Is everything okay?” Babsy asks him.

The driver responds by jumping out of his car and opening the door for her.

Babsy steps out.

“Is there anything else you need, ma’am?” he asks super-politely but without sincerity.

Babsy shakes her head.

He smiles, saying, “Then have a good day.”

He hops back into his car and pulls away quietly.

Babsy walks up to the front door with a puzzled look on her face.

Babsy turns towards Harley’s home, and Harley is already at the door waiting for her.

Babsy stops short of the steps, amazed by the sight of her doctor. Harley looks very different than she looked yesterday, wearing a tight, white t-shirt and distressed denim shorts. Her nipples almost seem to pierce the plain white cotton. Babsy feels a twinge of envy.

“My, you look proper for someone about to go to a party,” Harley says mockingly as she ushers Babsy inside.

“I was in a hurry,” Babsy says defensively. “Besides, you said you had a costume for me, and I don’t have anything as cool as what you are wearing.”

“Oh, this?” Harley says with a suggestive pose and a dismissive smile. “It’s just for around the house. Don’t worry; I’ve got us both covered for the party. But before that, how are you feeling? You sound much better than you sounded on the phone this morning.”

“Oh,” Babsy says, looking down and feeling embarrassed. “I was just really stupid. I don’t know why I thought Daddy would want me like that. I just saw those movies and  …” Babsy trails off, suddenly confused again, after suppressing those feelings all day until now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harley says with a big smile. “Love is always embarrassing. That’s part of the fun of it. The problem is that prudes take everything so seriously, like the rules really matter, and sex is something to be ashamed of. You know what I do when people make me feel that way? I do this.”

Harley opens the front door again and sticks out her middle finger at the world outside.

Babsy laughs.

Harley gestures for Babsy to come, saying, “You try it.”

Babsy feels embarrassed, but she walks up beside Harley and holds up her own middle finger.

An old lady across the street is watching both, master and apprentice, appearing offended, and even more so when both Harley and Babsy stick out their tongues.

Finally, Harley closes the door again and puts a hand on Babsy’s shoulder. “Now, you’ve got it! You’re a young woman, now. You’ve got the power. Don’t let anyone make you afraid to use it.”

Babsy’s smile weakens. “But maybe I’m not ready, yet. You said so yourself -- that Daddy doesn’t think I’m ready.”

Harley’s laughs. “A woman’s power is a strange thing. You can wrap a man around your finger, but he always needs to believe he is in control. If you are his slave, he will give you anything. But if he forgets how beautiful and charming you are, he will drop you like a hot potato, so you need to remind him every chance you get.”

“How do I do that?” Babsy asks, fascinated by Harley’s wisdom.

Harley’s smile wavers, and for just a moment, she sounds desperate. “Do it any way you can! You must drive him crazy for you! Go flirt with other men because he’ll want you more when he knows you could have someone else, but then remind him that he is the one you really want. Keep him guessing. Stay mysterious. You need to learn the games.”

Babsy hears the seriousness in Harley’s voice. She nods solemnly and says, “Okay.”

Then Harley’s smile bounces back, and she grabs Babsy’s hand. She leads the small girl into her bedroom where two elegant boxes sit on a clumsily made bed. She nudges one box towards Babsy, saying, “And the best way to drive your man crazy is by wearing a slutty costume at a party for every other man to ogle.”

Babsy laughs as she opens the box and takes her first glimpse at the sheer violet and yellow folds inside, and she knows that Harley could not have bought this costume from a rack at a Halloween store. The velvet and satin of the bat-mask were clearly sewn together by hand.

Babsy looks up at Harley in glee, never having received something so fancy before.

“Well, don’t just look; take that dorky uniform off, and let’s break some rules!” Harley demands while unexpectedly lifting her t-shirt over her head, and her perfect, natural c-cups drop back with a hypnotic bounce.

The professional air that Harley presented yesterday is now long gone in Babsy’s eyes; she has transformed into a goddess. Harley poses for the full effect, becoming everything that Babsy wishes she could be. The gorgeous blonde’s body is a canvas that she hides in her professional life. Her nipples each are pinched by tiny rings that squeeze the tips, thrusting them forward. She has several tattoos, of which Babsy’s favorite is over her left breast, reading in beautiful calligraphy:“Daddy’s Little Monster.”

Another tattoo is revealed as Harley unbuttons her shorts and lowers them to the ground. Between her naval and her laser-smoothed pussy are the words, “Lucky You!”

“What are you waiting for?” Harley asks with a smile, as she reaches for her costume.

Babsy fumbles with the buttons of her plain dress shirt, but Harley waits for Babsy to catch up before unveiling her costume. Babsy hurries, not wanting to make Harley wait, but Harley gestures for her to slow down.

“Rule number one about stripping: never rush,” Harley instructs.

Babsy laughs, embarrassed. She doesn’t think of what she is doing as stripping, but she slows down and tries to be sexy doing it. She feels foolish, pretending to be as sexy as Harley.

“Better,” Harley says, as Babsy tosses her blouse aside and poses like Harley had demonstrated, before she steps out of her shoes and lowers her skirt.

“You won’t need _those_ , either,” Harley says, almost disgusted, when Babsy stops undressing with her panties still on. “They’ll leave ugly lines in your costume. You aren’t becoming shy, now, after everything you did yesterday, are you?”

Babsy shakes her head, embarrassed for being embarrassed, and she lowers her panties and tosses them at Harley as a stripper might.

Harley laughs and gives Babsy an approving look and finally reaches for her costume, so Babsy does likewise.

They each lay out their costumes atop Harley’s bed.

Finally, Babsy can see what Harley had imagined for both of them.

Harley’s costume is that of a court jester with red and black spandex throughout, and a puffed-up headdress with cotton pom-poms on each side.

Babsy’s is nervous about her costume, because the top and bottom are both sheer nylon, like violet colored pantyhose, with metallic sparkles sprayed on top. She finds no seams or gussets, and the only break to the sheer material is the small yellow bat painted onto the chest. Babsy complains that her costume is almost see-through. Harley reassures her that the costume only looks that way against the white blanket, but it will be tantalizingly opaque on her body, especially with the bright lights of the party shining off of the glitter.

Both costumes come with skin-tight leggings and tops, and the girls put on their leggings at the same time. Harley’s leggings slide on quickly, because the material is thicker and is powdered on the inside. Babsy, though, struggles with her leggings, because her skin is almost spongy after taking such a long bath earlier, and the nylon bunches up unevenly.

While Babsy struggles, Harley has already pulled her top over her fabulous bosom and asks Babsy to zip her up in back.

Then Harley helps Babsy put on her top, which is even less cooperative than the leggings. It’s so stretchy, she complains, and she’s afraid she’ll cut into the fabric with her fingernails while she struggles into the long sleeves.

Once inside, Harley helps Babsy smooth out the wrinkles and bunched-up spots, but Babsy feels like Harley is groping her, touching her more than she needs to. Babsy feels exploited, excited, and most of all, confused. She watches as metallic particles fall like dust from her costume whenever Harley touches her, and she wonders if the costume will even last through the party.

Now that the hard part is over, Babsy wants to look in a mirror, but Harley stops her, saying, “Not until we are done with you!” Harley forgets about her own costume for the moment. She helps Babsy attach her super-cool utility belt, which exists only to hide the seam between the top and the leggings, but the belt is a convenient place to hide her phone. Harley tells Babsy to keep still while she combs Babsy’s hair before fitting the cowl over her head and carefully applying lipstick and mascara and adding a little color to her face.

She never felt so coddled, like Harley is her mother, yet the attention also feels sexual, the way Harley admires her. It’s all very unsettling, worrying about what Harley is doing to her, about how she feels, and about how she will look after all of this.

Finally, Harley ties the golden cape around Babsy’s neck like a leash and gently leads her like a show dog to her luxurious bathroom, which has mirrors on each wall, allowing the girls to see themselves from every angle.

Babsy sighs, first in relief and then in awe of how she looks. Her costume looks like a giant tattoo covering her naked body, except metallic particles in the nylon reflect the overhead lights, sparkling over the details. This outfit is too revealing, even for a beach, but Babsy cannot deny how amazing she looks and she wishes Daddy could see her now. She loves the way her cape flows, letting her hide or show her body at will. She loves the way her mask frames her hazel eyes and pink lips. She feels beautiful, just like Harley promised she would.

Harley looks even sexier, Babsy thinks, even without her final touches of make-up. While the jester costume is opaque, it is more revealing. Her ass looks fantastic, and her camel-toe conforms to the shape of her pussy lips. Her top is pulled tight, supporting her ample breasts, but the nipple clamps nudge the papilla forward, announcing them right through the spandex.

Babsy feels a stirring in her belly and finally accepts how turned on she is becoming. She glances between her legs in the mirror, knowing she is getting wet and afraid that it shows, but it doesn’t. She wants to touch herself, to know if it is penetrating her costume, but that would be very embarrassing to let Harley know how much she turns Babsy on right now. Or maybe it’s just the situation that is turning her on. Babsy feels all fucked up sexually, and it doesn’t feel right at all, but oddly, when she imagines what Daddy would think if he saw her this way, she smiles.

Harley kisses her on the back of her head, saying, “See? You look delish!”

Babsy keeps looking at herself in the mirror, wondering and hoping, while Harley applies white makeup and red lipstick and finally dons the jester hat.

When Babsy finally looks back, Harley has completely transformed and is posing confidently with a huge mallet resting on her shoulder. Babsy cowers for an instant before she realizes that mallet is just a joke.

“Come and get me, Bat-girl,” Harley teases. “I’ve been a bad girl.”

Babsy laughs.

“Here,” Harley says, kicking the purple boots towards Babsy. “Time to go partying.”

Babsy slides her feet into the boots. The kitten-heels add two inches to her height, which makes her two inches more confident.

Harley presses a few buttons on her phone, and then they put on their gloves, completing their cosplay transformation.

Within two minutes, their ride pulls into the driveway, and surprise, surprise, it’s that same Lyft driver that drove Babsy to Harley’s home.

His jaw drops when he sees his two passengers strut towards him, and his lustful admiration is not restricted to Harley. Babsy shamelessly flirts as she enters the back seat and catches the driver eyeing her in the rearview mirror. She wonders if he even recognizes her as the same girl he was rude to earlier.

***

The Arkham Juvenile Center is well known to every kid at Babsy’s middle school. Most kids make fun of it as a prison for kids, which was almost true a few years ago when it was a boarding school for troubled kids. But since then, the school shut down, and now it only provides activities and support for the kids in the neighborhood, about half of whom are children of Arkham patients.

Babsy has never seen the building before, and when it first appears beyond the car’s window, Babsy marvels at how much larger the building is than it needs to be for the new function. What a waste of space!

The parking lot is likewise overly large, but Harley instructs the driver to circle the building, avoiding the parking lot altogether, and let the girls enter through the staff doors. Somehow, Harley knows this door will be unlocked.

“When you crash a party, always use the back entrance,” Harley educates.

Babsy nods, though she doesn’t understand what “crashing a party” means.

So they sneak inside the building and walk down creepy, dim hallways to the auditorium on the opposite side. Babsy relaxes as the sound of dance music grows louder upon their approach.

When they arrive at the back entrance of the auditorium, Harley turns to Babsy and fusses a little more with the nervous girl’s appearance, making sure she is ready for their big entrance. Finally, Harley opens the door a crack, peeks inside, then thrusts the door aside.

Inside, the party lighting is much dimmer than Babsy expected, yet several eyes are drawn to their surprise appearance. The jester and bat-girl are instantly surrounded by kids, most of whom are older than Babsy, but very few are adults. Besides Harley, the only adults Babsy can see are two guards at the far side of the auditorium.

Everyone, it seems, is wearing fancy costumes, but Babsy feels self-conscious, because so many are looking their direction.

And then she realizes that in the subdued light, the metallic sparkles in her costume no longer hide her body with their shine. When she looks down at her chest, she can clearly see her nipples.

She panics and pulls on Harley’s arm. Harley doesn’t seem to understand, so she gestures towards her body, saying, “I feel naked! Please, let’s get out of here!”

Harley is not concerned in the slightest. She laughs. “After what you did last night, this should be nothing to you!”

Babsy hesitates, feeling called out. “But won’t we get in trouble?”

Harley gestures to the crowded room, saying, “Do you see anyone complaining?”

Babsy sees several shocked and curious eyes, but many others are already turning their attention back to their various adventures in the very active party.

Finally, Babsy shakes her head, “I guess not.”

She looks at the floor for a moment in self-doubt, wondering if she’s a slut or a prude.

Then a boy who is even shorter than Babsy, and probably a few years younger, runs up to her in a perfect Robin costume, yelling in delight, “Holy smoke, it’s a bat-girl!”

Babsy laughs. The boy’s eyes are taking her all in, excited in almost every way. Babsy wonders if he even understands the feelings stirring inside of him. “Holy smoke,” she repeats his excitement. “It’s Robin!”

“See?” Harley says with a smile and then she bumps Babsy’s ass with her mallet. “Go make friends. I want to catch up with a few of my friends, too.”

Babsy hesitates, but Robin grabs her hand and pulls. “Come on! Let’s play super-hero! Imagine meeting a fellow crime fighter here!”

The Batgirl laughs and tries to match his roleplaying, saying, “Not hard to imagine at all, Robin, with all of these criminals hanging around!”

Robin scans the room. “You’re telling me! Killer Moth and Riddler over there are mocking us, obviously planning something out in the open.”

Babsy looks up and sees the considerably older boys looking back, and she feels vaguely threatened by their stares, but she’s getting into her role, so she suggests playfully, “They do look like they are up to no good, right? Maybe they are planning to lure trick-or-treaters into a trap,”

“Strangers giving out candy don’t come any stranger than these crooks,” Robin says while punching his open hand in front of his chest.

Babsy giggles, impressed by his cosplaying skill, and she whispers, “You’re really good at this!”

But the Robin is totally into his role, so he doesn’t respond to the character-breaking bat-girl. Instead, he marches towards Killer Moth and Riddler, both of whom tower over him, and he shouts, “Caught you red-handed, evil-doers! Don’t you know crime doesn’t pay?”

Babsy hurries up behind him, worried that Robin might be a little crazy, and that maybe he’s starting a fight he can’t handle.

But the costumed villains instantly transform into their roles; they take fighting stances, and Robin leaps into action. He throws punches and kicks into the air, and the villains both pretend to be overwhelmed. Robin cartwheels right at them, and they fall away like a bowling ball striking pins.

The performances are beyond absurd, and hilarious, like pro-wrestlers on television. If this was planned, Barbara can’t tell. Her face is colored with laughter, and several other kids approach the show to cheer on the heroes and villains.

Babsy is too busy laughing, so she’s surprised when the moth-man grabs her from behind, groping both of her breasts in the process. He growls, “Back down, Boy Wonder, or your little girlfriend will get it!”

Without even thinking, Babsy reaches over her shoulder, grabs his costume, and puts her five judo lessons to good use. Killer Moth is now laying at her feet in shock.

Then, the crowd parts, giving way as an even larger boy dressed as Bane approaches.

Robin grabs Babsy’s hand and pulls, saying, “Looks like we need more help. Back to the bat-cave!”

Babsy raises her eyebrow. She never imagined any of her heroes retreating from a fight, especially a make-believe one like this, but she plays along and runs back towards the door through which she and Harley had just arrived a few minutes ago.

She runs a little faster when she realizes that the other three boys are actually running after them.

Robin never lets go of her hand, even while they barrel through the heavy door and rush down the quiet, dark halls.

Babsy is about to put a stop to the silly chase, except that the pretend villains are almost upon her.

Then Robin turns abruptly into a classroom that was apparently in use very recently, because a fresh banana is sitting on the teacher's desk.

And like most classrooms, this room has only one exit.

Babsy looks back at the open door, expecting to see Killer Moth, Riddler and Bane running in, but nobody is there. Outside, the footsteps have slowed to a walking speed.

The villains don’t need to run. Their prey are trapped.

A few seconds later, the big boys all walk in with smiles on their faces, but they aren’t friendly smiles, and they aren’t even out of breath.

“Okay, guys, you win,” Babsy says, acting like it’s still a game, but she finally believes she is in trouble. These really are bad guys, but she is no superheroine. She tries to walk around the boys, but they block her.

Killer Moth grabs her arm, and she tries to throw him with judo again, but this time he is ready, and he pins her arm behind her back, pushing hard enough to cause pain and the knowledge that if he pushes any harder, he’ll dislocate her elbow

“Ow!” she cries out with panic in her eyes. “What do you want?”

The Riddler grabs her other arm, and they push her down to her knees.

She tries a desperate smile, hoping maybe she can turn this back to a game, and asks, "Don't I at least get a riddle?"

Then Bane grabs her mask and pulls it off, and stares into her frightened eyes, saying, “Just a little payback for what your father, mister goody two shoes cop, did to our fathers.”

Babsy tries to squirm away, only to be met by a shooting pain up her arm.

They laugh at her, and she begins to cry, so they laugh harder.

“Please don’t hurt me!” she begs, anticipating what comes next.

Then Robin steps in front of her with his pants down, no longer looking or sounding cute when he says, “Don’t worry, a slut like you might enjoy what we have in mind for you!”

Babsy knows she can't get out of this, now. She had thought at least Robin was on her side.

Robin can’t be more than ten years old, yet his tiny dick is hard and ready to go. No boy wonder is he, Babsy thinks and somehow manages a giggle.

For that, he slaps her in the face hard, knocking her to the floor. The boys stand over her like wolves surrounding their cornered prey. She cries again, and they laugh again, as though making her cry is a big joke.

Bane then lifts her by the cape and pushes her up against the wall, yelling in her face, “Don’t fucking move, bitch.”

Babsy is so unsettled, she can’t move if she tries. All she can do now is cry and do one other, shameful thing.

Bane grabs her pussy roughly, to steal a feel, but then his eyes light up in glee. He announces, “Hey guys, this girl is wet like a sponge! She is getting off on this!”

Babsy shakes her head, murmuring “no” quietly, and feeling betrayed by her body.

The other boys grope freely, each trying to outdo each other with demeaning suggestions of what they will do with her, and who gets to pop her cherry first.

Babsy closes her eyes, still pleading “no,” while her pussy readies for their assault. She can’t possibly want this, can she? This isn’t like the fantasies that have kept her awake lately. These boys could not look any uglier to her than they look right now. They are so immature, and they don’t even know what they are doing. They don’t even care how she feels about them. This is pure hate, and there is no fucking way Babsy is going to enjoy this! She’s going to keep her eyes closed until this is all over.

But she can’t comprehend what they do next: They stop talking and seem content to feel her up, groping her nipples, ass and pussy, as though they are determined to make her come with just their hands, or are waiting for something else to happen.

And, God help her, but she moans when one boy slides his hand beneath her utility belt, within her leggings, and plunges two fingers into her pussy. He then kisses her lips, and she kisses him back! With her eyes closed, she’s not even sure who she is kissing. She’s imagining she’s somewhere else, kissing someone else, and that’s how she’ll get through this.

But just as she is making her peace with her fate, the boy is pulled off of her, and the others scurry away.

She opens her eyes to find an adult in a clown costume standing over her, offering her a hand, saying, “It’s okay now, little girl. They won’t bother you anymore.”

Babsy looks for the four boys who were threatening her just a few seconds ago, but they are walking out of the room quietly. It all seems very strange, like the clown gave them a command, and they abandoned their plans without even a complaint. The boys almost seem bored, now, like they are just actors going from performance to performance.

Babsy takes the clown’s hand, and as she rises to her feet, Harley follows the clown into the room in a hurry.

She looks at Babsy with concerned eyes.

Babsy rushes into her arms and cries unrestrained. She thanks Harley and the stranger for saving her.

It doesn’t matter who or what they saved her from. Maybe they saved her from the bad boys, or maybe from the bad girl inside of her.


	8. Bad Clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker is one sick motherfucker.

Babsy soaks in Harley’s affection, and nothing else seems to exist for a moment, not even the clown who stands two feet away. Babsy feels like Harley had pulled her away from a cliff. Now, being in Harley’s arms settles her nerves, but it is not as calming as she would hope.

Harley says, “Aww, did those bad boys scare you?”

Babsy nods, but she’s confused by the tone in Harley’s voice. It’s too light and airy.

The clown says, “So this is the girl, huh? Doesn’t quite live up to the costume, does she?”

Then he laughs.

Babsy looks up from the safety of Harley’s arms and examines her colorful hero with mixed feelings. He is tall and lanky with green hair and huge red nose. Babsy had always liked clowns ever since Daddy had taken her to a circus two years ago, and this clown looks like pure fun. He wears a yellow shirt with colored polka dots, and baggy, striped pants with a growing tent in the middle. He looks at Babsy in a way adults don’t usually look at little girls, and his laugh makes Babsy nervous.

“Shh!” Harley says to the clown while snuggling with Babsy. “You are lousy at being a hero! She’s just been through a traumatic experience!”

“Aww, she thought fighting bad guys would be fun, did she?” he says, looking down at Babsy, almost mocking her.

“This is Halloween!” Babsy defends herself. “I didn’t think I would be fighting anyone.”

“I’m sorry I let those boys chase you in here,” Harley says to Babsy, still not sounding serious enough. “It looked like you were having fun until they got out of control. But what a thrill, right?”

Babsy pulls back a few inches to look in her eyes. Harley is smiling, and not that comforting kind of smile Babsy would expect.

“Thrill?” Babsy asks, confused, wondering if she was overreacting. “I don't know … were they … going to rape me?”

Harley combs Babsy’s messed-up hair with her fingers and winks at her, like Babsy should be playing along. “No, sweetie, that’s just how those boys play. When they play a game, they get all into it. But I can hardly blame them. You're a real hottie!” Then she looks at the clown, asking, “Right, Mistah J?”

The clown covers his mouth and yawns. “Sure, if you’re scoping out girls at Chucky Cheese, she might be the girl for you.”

Babsy pouts, depressed that all men seem to think that way about her, like she's still a child and not worth thinking about or playing with.

“Oh really?” Harley asks accusingly. Then she grabs the child’s shoulders and turns her around, showcasing her like she is a prize on a game show. “This tight little bod does nothing for you? Go on Babsy, show him what you've got!”

Babsy hesitates, feeling vulnerable, but she bites her lip, knowing Harley is on her side, guiding her towards adulthood like a mentor. Harley has been pushing Babsy all along to break the rules, embrace the forbidden, as though that was the only way to become an adult. Babsy just needs to trust her. And she knows that look in his eyes all too well; that hungry look feels like a promise but always amounts to nothing. But some day they won’t see her as a child. Maybe that day is today. So the child smiles at the clown, flirting, thinking maybe she can get this clown to admit he wants her. Then she’ll know it’s not all a lie. It suddenly seems important.

He cocks his head and looks at Babsy again and nods, “She is a tempting little morsel, all right, in that smoking get up, but when she takes it off, I guarantee she turns back into an adorable kindergardener

The child stomps her foot in indignation. She knows she’s small, but he has to know she’s older than that!

The clown and Harley look at each other and break out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Babsy wonders aloud.

“It’s just a joke, sweetie!” Harley explains. “Anyone can see you are a sexy young woman.”

"Oh," Babsy says, not quite believing her doctor and feeling like she's on a rollercoaster.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” the clown corrects. “She’s no doubt a virgin. I’ll bet she’s never even kissed a boy. I can’t imagine any grown man being turned on by her!”

The child suddenly hides her face because she wants to cry.

Then Harley grabs her and pulls her into a corner.

“Shh, calm down,” Harley whispers. “He’s just teasing you. Men like to do that, especially when they are into a girl. It makes them feel strong and powerful. Just go with it. They don’t want to admit it when they can’t resist a girl.”

The child looks at Harley skeptically. “He likes … me?”

Harley nods. “Of course! Just look at his pants. He barely hides it.”

The child doesn’t care if this mean man likes her or not, but he’s old like Daddy. Maybe that’s why Harley picked him—so Babsy can practice. She raises her eyes and looks at him. The tall man in the funny costume is just tapping his giant clown toes, waiting impatiently and hiding nothing. That tent in his pants is now pointing straight up.

“I don’t know,” Babsy quickly dismisses the idea that a grown man could be into her. “I think he’s into you, not me.”

Harley smiles and looks away, wishing it were true. Then she looks back with a playful smile and suggests, “Let’s find out!”

At that suggestion, a dozen stop signs and red lights flash through Babsy’s mind, but she drives right past them, asking, “How?”

“We’ll just do what he wants and let him decide,” Harley says with a bright smile, as though they’d be offering him a menu at a restaurant. “It will be fun!”

The child is too overwhelmed to think this outrageous proposal through. She really likes Harley, and she’s trusted her this far, so she says, “Okay.”

“Believe me, this is exactly what you need,” Harley promises, as she closes the door to the classroom and pins it shut with a chair.

“So what was that all about?” the clown asks casually, but Babsy thinks he doesn't really care.

“We have a disagreement,” Harley says. “We’ve both noticed that huge bowling pin in your pants. Our little Batgirl here thinks I’ve summoned it with my magic, but I think you have her in mind.”

“Oh, really?” the clown asks, laughing, without a hint of embarrassment. “And how exactly do you propose we resolve this mystery of the magic bowling pin, and what do we do with this toy, now that it is here?”

Harley approaches him and strokes his cheek, saying, “Well, that’s up to you, Puddin.”

He seems unmoved. He grabs her by the hips and says, “Hmm, well, then come here and let me see what you’ve got.”

Babsy sighs, disappointed that he’s made his choice already, without even giving her a second thought. Once Harley is done with him, he won’t have any interest in the awkward child with the tiny tits. Maybe that's the way it should be, the way society and her teachers and her Daddy always tell her it should be, but it's not what she wants.

Harley squirms out of the clown’s grasp, shaking her head. “No, no, no, this is a contest, Puddin! You have to play with both of us.”

She gives Babsy a wink.

Babsy tenses up. A second ago, she was disappointed this might not happen, but now she is scared that it will. A barrage of feelings fight within her. Disgust and lust. Fear and anticipation. Trust and suspicion.

“Fine,” the clown says with a pout, sounding deflated, but then he suddenly laughs. 

He shocks Babsy by pushing his baggy pants all the way to the floor and steps out of them. When he stands back up, Babsy is stunned. His cock is pointing right at the child, fully erect. That is why she is here.

Babsy stumbles backward, suddenly afraid.

But the clown sits down on the teacher’s chair, legs parted, and slowly rubs his cock up and down while he looks hungrily at his two contestants.

“Dance for me, then. Sexy like.”

Harley smiles. She sways her hips slightly and nods towards Babsy to join her.

Babsy feels unsure. She doesn't know this game, so she mirrors everything Harley does.

Harley wants to grid, but the child doesn’t know anything about this, so she giggles.

“Ugh, this is torture to watch!” the mean clown says, not even giving them a chance. “I meant: strip for me!”

The child looks at Harley for direction. Removing her costume shouldn’t matter. Many of the sparkles have already fallen off of her costume, leaving it nearly see-through, but removing that ultra-thin layer of nylon feels like a big deal.  It’s an escalation. First, the child shows her body, but now she must use it. It’s a point of no return. Whatever happens next, she will learn things about herself she cannot unlearn.

Harley merely smiles at Babsy while she kicks off her red boots.

Babsy likewise kicks her purple boots aside.

Harley removes her jester hat, and Babsy removes her cowl.

Harley smiles as she lightly grabs the child’s hand and pulls her close and removes her yellow cape, then Harley turns around so Babsy can unzip her jester top.

The child eagerly obliges, wanting to see her doctor’s perfect tits again.

As Babsy drags the zipper down Harley’s back, the scent of Harley’s disarming perfume escapes her costume, making Babsy dizzy.

But Harley doesn’t turn around when her top drops away. Instead, she shimmies her latex tights down to the floor, giving the clown and her sexual protégé a lovely view of her gyrating ass.

Then, when she finally turns around, she tosses her red and white tights onto the clown’s lap. Her tits bounce excitedly, and her naked body glows like a revelation.

The clown catches the discarded clothes, and he also catches Babsy gaping longingly at Harley’s perfect mammaries.

“Nice, aren’t they?” She clown asks, sharing her longing.

The child nods dumbly.

He demands sharply, “Suck on them.”

She nods, as though his demand isn't outrageous. But she doesn’t move.

“It will be fun,” Harley entices, smiling, as she steps on a small box on the floor, putting her breasts at the child’s mouth level. Then she cradles Babsy’s head with her hands and guides the girl's lips over her left nipple. “Just be careful, okay?”

Babsy glances at the clown, who is anxiously waiting for some girl-on-child action, and that makes Babsy smile. He likes to watch, like Daddy, and he’s forceful like Daddy, too.

She feels like she’s in one of the movies Daddy watches.

While Babsy is a confused wreck about her sexual feelings, and the situation has only gotten worse, she has been smitten by Harley from the start. Especially those tits. Those feelings are clear. But she’d never have the courage to do what she wanted, had the clown not demanded it.

The child opens her mouth, draws the tender nipple inside and sucks gently.  Harley’s nipples still have those tiny ring-clamps that push the tip forward. The child plays with the ring with her tongue. She can’t help herself. When Harley moans, she moans, too. She can’t believe she’s doing this. Her pussy is aching. She closes her eyes and sucks harder, dizzy from the unexpected intimacy.

Suddenly, the ring comes loose, and Babsy carelessly lets it fall to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” the child says shamefully.

But Harley will have none of that. She steps backward off of the box and lifts The child onto the box in her place. Now they are much closer in height, and Harley wraps her arms around Babsy’s hips and kisses her fully on the mouth. At this moment, Harley could not be more beautiful. The child’s pussy is growing wetter by the second, which must mean she is a lesbian. She forgets for a moment about the clown beating off a few feet away, and she forgets disturbing, precious memories about her Daddy. Babsy thinks for a moment that she is in love. At least she hopes she is. Compared to her feelings for her Daddy, loving a woman, even her doctor seems so much more socially acceptable. But still exciting and forbidden. The child’s hands were shaking until now, but now they are steady. She rubs her thighs together and is having trouble breathing. 

She wonders if Harley will still be her doctor, after all of this. Then she giggles at how crazy that sounds, ending the kiss.

Harley unexpectedly turns Babsy around, reminding her that the clown is only a few feet away, losing himself on the chair, jerking off vigorously and watching his showgirls make out for his enjoyment. The absurdity of it all makes her break out in giggles, which makes the clown giggle, and they are all smiles for a moment, until desire reasserts itself.

Harley strokes the child’s body through the costume for a moment, and then she helps Babsy shed the flimsy, purple second-skin, tossing the remains at the clown.

But nobody is laughing, because the child is now completely naked, glistening with sweat. Her budding breasts are sore, needing attention, and a drop of her excitement hangs tantalizingly from her neglected, virgin pussy.

Babsy didn’t realize exactly how excited she was until now, and she doesn’t care what happens next, or who fucks her, as long as she loses her innocence. The child succumbs to the magic around her.

The clown takes her small hand, and she smiles invitingly at him.

But, when the clown stands up, towering over her and puts his cock in her hand, she shivers and stumbles back into Harley, who stops her retreat.

The feel of his cock in her hand was unexpected. Hot. Intense. Now she knows why some people compare dicks to guns; both are frightening to touch.

“What’s wrong, little girl?” the clown growls seductively, while Harley holds Babsy still. “Don’t be scared of my bald-headed friend here; he’s just excited and wants to play with you.”

Babsy feels cornered, but she can’t back away, so she cautiously touches his cock again, admiring its shape and amazed that she can feel the blood rush through it when she holds it.

Babsy laughs nervously, while Harley reaches around her body and fondles her nipples. Then Babsy’s eyes flutter. She feels paralyzed. She now realizes that Harley is not making love to her, now; instead, she is preparing her for that clown, who Babsy is literally holding in her hands.

“I … I’m not supposed to do this,” Babsy resists halfhearted, pretending that she is still a good girl.

Pretending that she was EVER a good girl.

“Are you a woman or a baby?” The clown challenges. “Did your Daddy tell you not to fuck clowns?”

The child nearly faints at the question, imagining what Daddy would think. But to her surprise, she can’t remember Daddy ever telling her who to fuck, or who not to fuck. The only guidance he’d ever given her about sex is from those shocking bookmarks on his computer. He didn’t even complain that she sexted her friends until the school found out.

So she shakes her head. Daddy has no say in what she does.

“Then kneel down,” the clown commands confidently, and sure enough, the doctor and the child immediately kneel side-by-side in front of him, looking up at him like he’s a god.

The clown steps forward, and he presents his cock between both of their faces, saying, “Come and dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.”

Babsy stares at his cock and balls with both childish disgust and growing fascination. She thought he would be hairy, like Daddy was, but the clown had shaved it as close as Babsy had shaved her pussy, making him seem much younger from down here. The skin is stretched so tight around the shaft, a vein is visible, and she thinks she can see the blood pumping into his cock as fast as her own heart beats in her chest.

Harley whispers in her ear, saying, “You’ll be fine, sweetie; just do what I do.”

“Ok,” Babsy agrees.

Harley sticks out her tongue and licks the left side of his cock, so Babsy wets her lips and licks the right side. Their tongues travel from the base to the head, and Babsy smiles when a tremor shakes the clown’s whole body.

When the girls’ tongues meet at the very tip, they kiss again, but the clown has had enough of watching their pleasure. He buries his hands in their hair and pulls their faces back towards his crotch.

Harley raises her head and draws one of his balls in her mouth and looks up at the clown submissively, like her life depends on it, so Babsy does the same.

He is salty and tastes kind of meaty, but not bad. Babsy is not sure what to do with his testicle except to be gentle, knowing these are very sensitive. She never saw anyone do this in the pornos, but she takes it all in. She savors his smell and Harley’s smell. She feels good about herself, knowing she pleases him and that he trusts her.

Her heart slows down. This doesn’t feel wrong anymore. It feels intimate. All three of them touching, tasting, feeling each other.

Harley releases his ball from her mouth, so Babsy does the same.

“I’ll go first; then do what I do,” Harley instructs, and Babsy nods.

She invites the clown’s cock into her mouth, and he buries his hands in her hair, guiding her back and forth. The child watches how her doctor moves her head, angles her throat, letting him push deeper and letting him pump a few times, which is exciting and scary, but somehow Harley doesn’t choke.

The clown moans and wants her to continue, but she pulls away with a trail of saliva hanging between his cock and her lips and nods at the child.

She is nervous, but the clown’s hands guide the child’s head forward before she’s ready. His wet cock plunges into her mouth, but he doesn’t thrust as he did with Harley. He gives the child time to welcome him. So she sucks on him like a popsicle and feels his shape with her tongue. She looks up, wanting to see the clown’s eyes, but his hands and his clown shirt block her view, now, so she closes her eyes and lets him explore her young, wet mouth.

The child feels unsettled when Harley stands up, leaving her side, and does something with the clown the child can’t see.

Whatever Harley is doing, it makes the clown more excited, and he pushes deeper with some urgency, so the child needs to hold him back, or she would choke.

But then he grabs hard and pushes too deep, and the child has to cough with him still in her mouth.

Almost instantly, she is afraid, and she raises her hands to get his attention.

He grabs her by the neck and yanks her away with unexpected strength. Then he just looks at her for a moment, as her spit falls from her mouth and she continues coughing.

She feels stupid, like she screwed up badly.

But he doesn’t laugh. The humor has left him. He doesn’t look like a clown anymore. He doesn’t look funny. Not even creepy. He looks more like a hungry lion, and Babsy feels like a prey about to be eaten.

She struggles to break free, but she is like nothing in his strong hands, as she turns her around and bends her over the teacher’s desk. He grabs her long red hair like a mane and he pins her forehead against the desk. The child struggles to escape, but now Harley is holding her hands still at the other end of the desk.

The child’s eyes plead with Harley, but the good doctor whispers back, “Let it happen; it will only hurt a little.”

Babsy stops resisting, as the clown's strong legs spread her legs over the edge of the desk. She feels a man’s finger enter her virgin pussy and thinks stupidly, “is that his cock?”, but then the real thing slams inside of her when she is nowhere near ready. She is plenty wet, and there is no blood. Although she was a virgin, she had stretched herself with plenty of toys recently, but it still hurts. She is so small, his cock bottoms out inside of her. And he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t care that he’s hurting her.

She is full on crying when the clown flips her over and stares right in her eyes while he continues fucking her. Her tears only seem to make him more fierce, and when Babsy looks at Harley, still pinning her down, she is grinning cruelly, making her cry even harder.

Then the clown flips her over yet again, and it’s a relief not seeing how much they are enjoying her distress.

She closes her eyes, remembering Harley’s words, and despite Harley’s cruel grin, Babsy still wants to trust her. So she relaxes her body, and follows Harley’s advice to “let it happen.”

Her thighs pinch against the edge of the desk with every thrust that forces her legs apart and rams her ass inches into the air and bottoms out inside of her like he’s punching her belly. But the pain is better than seeing his face, and after a minute, her pussy grows numb, accepting him more, but whatever excitement she had is gone.

She clings to the hope that this experience will somehow make her life better, as Harley had suggested, but it’s so disappointing. She felt more intimacy and pleasure when she fucked herself with a bottle and sexted it to Katsumi. She thought being fucked by a man would be special.

But she knew from the start, he was the wrong man.

She lays completely still when he lets out a mighty groan, lifting her hips off of the desk and holding her there like she weighs nothing, as he deposits his seed. Despite the pain and disillusionment, she doesn’t feel violated or ashamed or even regretful. She certainly doesn’t feel satisfied. The clown got his rocks off, but Babsy feels a weird kind of longing and like she was just being tossed around. Still, she feels a kind of peace, too, because like Harley had told her in the beginning, she needs this experience. She needed to know. It wasn’t how she wanted to learn, and she never expected it to come from the cock of a strange clown, or feel his spunk oozing out of her.

But finally, she’s done it. She did the deed, so she is a woman, now, and nobody can call her a child anymore.

“You can have the sloppy seconds, bitch!” the clown says coldly with a hysterical laugh. Babsy is curling into a fetal position on the desk, humbled by this pivotal moment in her life, while Harley’s tongue licks the clown’s gift that oozes from Babsy’s bruised and sore pussy.

“And the winner is …,” the clown says while pulling up his pants, “dum dum dum … the little red-headed tween girl. Congratulations, kiddo! It was you all along. You’ve seduced and conquered my ten inch dragon!”

Harley helps Babsy sit on the desk, and Babsy marvels at how this beautiful woman looks with the clown’s cum and Babsy’s juices dripping down her face, mixing with her white makeup into a thick stream of white goo. The older girl forces a smile despite desperation in her eyes. She wipes away Babsy’s remaining tears and asks, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Babsy looks at her blankly, suddenly realizing that everything she had thought about this beautiful, professional goddess is wrong. Harley is just as fucked up as Babsy. So is the clown. So is Daddy. So is everyone else in this fucked up world.

And that is the lesson she needs to learn. That’s what this is all about. This is what it means to be “mature” and “adult.” That’s what it means to be a woman. It means you become a slave to all of the fucked up feelings you have inside, even if you are someone respectable, like Doctor Harley or even Daddy.

After tying his shoes, the clown unlocks the classroom door and says to Harley, “You were right; she was a real thigh-slapper with a tighter, wetter snapper than you’ve had in years!”

Then suddenly he is out the door, walking away, end of show.

“No!” Harley calls out, in a panic. “Stay here,” she says without looking at Babsy, then she grabs her cellphone that had been positioned on the chalkboard, pointing right at Babsy like a camera, recording everything. Harley flees the room. “Come back, Puddin! You forgot something!”

"And now the beginning and the end of the circle are one!" He calls back mysteriously from the deserted hallway as he struts away, then he laughs like he's told a hilarious joke. His cackles and footsteps echo off the walls of the deserted hallway in his wake. He repeats the joke as Harley chases him, and a moment later they are both gone. 

Babsy looks on in disbelief and pulls her thighs against her chest as tight as she can.

Her mind struggles to find meaning, but she doesn't understand anything, except that her doctor had captured all of this madness on her phone.

Babsy laughs and cries at the same time, because "growing up" is a lot dirtier and emotional than she had ever imagined. It’s been quite a journey, and most of it has been recorded somewhere. First, boys had asked her to send them naked pics, which they promptly shared around school. Then, Katsumi and Babsy had escalated with a series of dares that had gotten her suspended. Daddy, it turns out, has been recording her for who knows how long. And now her doctor has immortalized the moment her cherry was popped.

She won’t even be twelve until Monday, but her destiny appears to be set.

"Oh my God!" she giggles suddenly, and she wonders, “was I born to be a porn star?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: one on one with Daddy


	9. Bad Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Babsy both fell down. But they get up again.

Alone in her home, Harley sleeps in that night, shutting down her emotions and licking her wounds.

When she wakes up, she is still only half there.

Her phone rests on the bed beside her, refusing to ring.

Last night did not go the way she had hoped. She had planned everything out so meticulously, and then when the time came to execute the plan, she decided to wing it.  She let things get out of control, jumped the gun, and chose fun over a strategy that was sure to work. And for that, Mistah J showed how little he cared about her feelings, letting her sacrifice everything, humiliating her, and giving her nothing in return.

Again.

Maybe it didn’t matter what she did. Maybe she’s learning the wrong lesson. Maybe, she should finally face the obvious -- that it is impossible for her beloved clown to love her without an agenda. His heart is ruled by crazy obsessions, such as dismantling society, needling the Caped Crusader, and introducing the innocent to his madness. Why can’t Harley be one of his obsessions, too? Why does he keep pushing her off of his team?

Instead, she is an afterthought that he will never love. She is a fun ride. She is a hilarious joke: the respected shrink who is obsessed with the maniac. And that’s why she matters to him, and why he’ll never let her go.

But she will never learn the lesson. It was never about her hopes or choices. She needs him. She can’t control that, just like he can’t control what he needs. She knows she will never be happy, except for those few minutes when she can give him exactly what he wants and bring such joy to his eyes. Those moments are sublime and worth all of the pain that follows. She craves the humiliation, when he crushes her soul under his feet. It feels like a fucked up heaven compared to the hell when he ignores her completely.

And that’s where she is now. She feels like an old hag, forsaken for a virgin child who doesn’t mean a thing to him, now that he has fucked her. Harley thought that maybe, just maybe, they could share this girl and that Babsy’s corruption would be their salvation. It was a crazy, desperate thought with a predictable outcome: her Puddin’ treated Harley’s desperation with disdain and savored her humiliation, making her want him all the more.

And that’s the only way he will ever have her – stuck in his trap. It is so perfect for him, and Harley has no hope of changing the dynamic. This is her purpose – to suffer for his fulfillment and beg for the abuse.

After hours of silence and wandering like a zombie around her house, her phone finally lights up and rings with the default ringtone. She already feels her heart sink, because the only sound she wants to hear is the maniacal laughter that she chose as a ring tone for her beloved, but maybe he lost his phone or is calling from someplace else. Then she looks at the phone and sits up, surprised.

The phone says “Commissioner Gordon.”

Harley stares at the phone for a minute. That’s Babsy’s landline phone. Why would Babsy be calling?  Harley and Mistah J had pretty much raped the girl yesterday, and then Harley abandoned her at the party, half-naked and traumatized. Harley never returned despite promising to do so, instead searching for Mistah J all over Gotham. When she finally remembered where she had left the tweenager, she assumed Babsy hated her and that all of her crazy plans were kaput.

So why is she calling? Maybe this call is actually from her Daddy, calling to threaten her. But wouldn’t the police just show up unannounced and arrest her?

No, Harley decides, this must be Babsy. Maybe Harley gave up on the girl too quickly. Perhaps Babsy has become so attached to Harley that she can’t believe Harley would ever deliberately hurt her. Or maybe, like Harley, Babsy needs to be punished.

After several rings, Harley finally answers, “Hello.”

“Doctor Harley?” a frightened, desperate sounding girl asked.

“Yes, it’s me, Babsy.”

Then neither girl says anything for several seconds, but Harley senses Babsy’s distress on the other end. The dirty doctor feels bad and finally apologizes, “I’m sorry I didn’t come back last night. I have no excuse.”

Then Babsy breaks down on the other end, crying openly on the other end of the line.

“Babsy?” Harley asks, suddenly concerned.

Again, several seconds of silence.

“I’m okay,” Babsy responds reassuringly, as though Harley’s lame apology was enough. The girl is apparently used to broken promises and forgives easily. She continues with surprising indifference, “Did you, like, hook up with the clown?”

Harley clenches her teeth, feeling for a moment that Babsy’s question is passively aggressive, reminding Harley who played second fiddle in her Puddin’s heart. But Babsy is still a child about such motives, so Harley relaxes and says, “No, Babsy.”

Babsy sounds disappointed. “But you wanted to, right?” asks, not sounding at all like a victim.

“I guess that was pretty obvious, huh?” Harley replies, then laughs that Babsy is talking like they are close friends commiserating. That’s when both girls seem to realize simultaneously that they were using each other. Harley recognizes a younger version of herself in Babsy, and she gets brutally honest. “I can’t help myself with him. It’s a sickness in me. Some people are just wrong for each other, and we should just move on and find someone who is better for us. That’s a lesson I’ve never been good at learning, and I hope you do better with it.”

Babsy suddenly goes quiet, and Harley realizes she made a mistake. She told the truth, but the truth was too harsh, so she tries to distract with, “How did you get home last night?”

“I walked,” Babsy replies flatly.

“Really? That’s a long ways. Two miles at least through bad neighborhoods in a sexy costume. That must have been … embarrassing.”

“Yeah,” Babsy replies with a small laugh, not blaming Harley at all. “But it was dark and I think people could only see my cape in the shadows. Nobody seemed to notice me. Maybe they thought I was walking to another Halloween party.”

Harley listens, trying to figure Babsy out. Why isn’t she angry? She’s acting like she still trusts Harley; how the fuck can that be? Harley gets paranoid for just a moment, considering that Babsy is feeding her bullshit, trying to entrap her over the phone with the police listening in. But Harley somehow knows Babsy would never do that.  Finally, Harley asks directly, “Why are you calling, Babsy? Is there something I can help you with?”

Babsy pauses again, then says, “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I’m doing it right,” she says mysteriously. “I know you were trying to teach me something last night, with the clown. I thought after all of that, I’d know what to do. I thought maybe sex would fix me or show me what I need to do. But I feel even worse and Daddy is not feeling good, either.”

Harley laughs silently, amazed that Babsy believed that last night was a lesson.

But then Harley is suddenly alert. Maybe last night **was** a lesson, for both of them. It didn’t go the way Harley had planned, but Babsy still trusts her and wants her help, so they have a chance to start over. Harley has a choice – she could finally be a good doctor, recognize that both girls are suffering from the same madness, and be Babsy’s support group to overcome that madness. It’s a spark of hope that sometimes transforms people’s lives, and it almost brings Harley to tears. But then she collects herself and asks like she’s one of Babsy’s pubescent friends, “Oh my God, what happened?”

And then she just lets Babsy talk.

“When I got home last night I felt … wrong. I mean…I don’t know what I mean, you know? I mean, I felt messed up! I **feel** messed up! But last night, when I got home, I showered for like an hour, and I still felt disgusting! Then I went to bed, but I couldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t sleep. It’s so … fucked up. I kept thinking about what we did and it scared me! I sorry. And then … I don’t know, I couldn’t stop touching myself! Oh, God, what’s wrong with me? And then I felt so wrong and dirty and bad! I couldn’t sleep, and I even turned on the police radio for some white noise, so I wouldn’t have to think, but it didn’t help.

“Then, like really, really late,” Babsy continues, now whispering into the phone, “I was just laying there with my legs open, touching myself. I didn’t hear Daddy come home, because of the noise, and when I heard my bedroom door opening, I panicked! I rolled onto my side and pulled a sheet over my butt and legs, pretending to be asleep. Daddy snuck into my room and just stared at me for a while! And I thought he was just watching me sleep until I felt him moving the sheet off of my body really slowly until I was naked again! I was freaking out, but I couldn’t let him know I was really awake! I was sure he knew, though, because I was really wet and couldn’t stop moving, so I started moaning like I was dreaming about something … naughty.

“And then he just walked out of the room, but he left the door partly open with the light from the hall lighting up the whole room. I didn’t get why he did that, until I remembered that the little spy camera was still pointing at my bed. Those cameras have like night vision. So while I pretended to be asleep, I knew Daddy was watching from his room, which is really close to mine. I didn’t know what to do, but knowing that he was watching felt weird, like he was tickling me, you know? So I pretended like I was waking up. Then I grabbed a dildo that Daddy didn’t know about and just went at it on my bed, right in front of the camera. I could hear Daddy’s chair bouncing around in the other room even over the sound of the radio! And then I came really hard. I think I was crying out, even! Then all I could hear was that police radio static. I don’t even remember what happened after that. I think I was so tired, I fell asleep like right away.”

Harley laughs triumphantly, “Bravo!”

Babsy hesitates, then asks with worry, “You don’t think this makes me bad? I mean … he’s my Daddy.”

“Come on, you know my philosophy, right?” Harley laughs again. “He is your forbidden fruit. You are not allowed to want him. You are forbidden to fuck him. So you cannot grow up until you do just that.”

“I know,” Babsy replies sadly. Then the phone is quiet for a long time, until Babsy finally says. “But he does not want that. He left again before I even woke up this morning, and he deleted the video from last night.  Maybe I’m imagining everything. Everyone says he’s like Mr. Integrity. How could he want me? Maybe I pulled the sheet off of myself. Maybe he wasn’t even watching.”

“Bullshit,” Harley says flatly, knowing that Babsy knows it's bullshit, too, and wants Harley's encouragement. Harley considers how much she and the tween are alike. Both girls are clearly bisexual, but with a monomania for one reluctant man who squeezes every ounce of their sluthood to win their man’s attention.  Both girls have both been using each other, each hoping the other girl would give them an advantage with their man. So far, they have both failed, and their men have spurned them, but now Harley realizes they can still help each other. There is still hope.

Harley adds, “Your Daddy wants you just as much as you want him, but he’s spent a lifetime fighting against what he wants. Everyone says the moment he touches you, you are a victim, but don’t you feel more like a victim right now, deprived of his touch? You are **his** forbidden fruit, too. You’ve been dangling in front of his face for years, and he’s always refused to take a bite.  In some ways, he’s just a middle-aged boy who has never become a man.”

“You think so?” Babsy asks with almost delirious hope.

“Absolutely,” Harley says, matching Babsy’s delirium. “Their feelings are like puzzle pieces, and they are afraid to touch them. They’ll never be happy until we put the pieces together for them.”

Babsy pauses. “But … I don’t know how to do that. I wouldn’t know what to say, and if I tried to do anything, Daddy just wouldn’t come home anymore. He hasn’t even talked to me since he watched that video of me Friday night. I’m really bad at this.”

“Not at all,” Harley encourages, amused at Babsy’s lack of faith in her own appeal. “He can’t resist your bait, and you just need to reel him in. Just guide him in, don’t make any crazy moves, and you’ll catch him.”

“But I will do something crazy! Something stupid!” Babsy almost shouts, frustrated that Harley doesn’t seem to understand. “I don’t even know how to talk to him!”

“Of course you do. You just aren't used to taking the lead, which you'll have to do, but don't worry because I'll be helping you the whole time!” Harley gushes, knowing that by helping Babsy she would also help herself.

“How?”

“We already have a camera. We just need one of those tiny, invisible earphones,” Harley muses, then laughs. “Cyrano de Bergerac never had it so easy!”

Babsy laughs innocently. “Who is that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Busy, busy, busy. The next chapter (the last chapter) will be pretty long and may take a month for me to finish at this rate, but I hope it will be worth the wait!


	10. Bad Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James seeks help for his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I meant to end the story with one long chapter from James' point of view, but I've decided to it's better to split the finale into two parts.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been one year since my last confession,” James said through the screen in the confessional as he makes the sign of the cross. Then he pauses. “But really, it’s been much longer than that. I have a secret I need to get off my chest.”

The anonymous priest interrupts, “Your confession is meaningless if you won’t confess everything.”

James sighs. “I know. I thought I was doing the right thing keeping this secret. Nobody else knew the truth since my wife died way back then, and I thought it best that the truth dies with me. But … I don’t think I’m handling it very well. It’s hard to explain it all.”

“Then start at the beginning and unburden yourself, my son.”

“The beginning? Well, I guess I need to start fourteen years ago, when I got married. Barbara was a beautiful, petite woman with a childlike laugh and the heart of an angel. She looked younger than her years. She was the only woman I ever wanted. I never thought I would be so blessed. I thought that maybe, finally, I was getting my mind right. When we were married, she wanted to start a family right away. But life threw us a hell of a curveball.

“Even before that, when I was a rookie, I was an idealistic little bastard. I chose Gotham, like a gung-ho teenager chooses to go to war, having no idea what they are getting into. The rules in Gotham were different from the rules I learned at the academy. Gangs were powerful in this city, more powerful than the cops, but the criminal underground operated with a code of honor. The cops and the gangs mostly respected each other. There was a kind of balance, but I didn’t understand that, and I made a lot of enemies on both sides. Since I didn’t obey the rules, I had no protection. The most important rule, observed by both cops and gangs, is that you don’t go after the enemy’s family.

 “Barbara and I were attacked in my home by one of the most dangerous gangs in Gotham. I offered them money if they let my wife go, but that only enraged them more. They didn’t want anything except to teach me what life was like for them: to live in disgrace and madness without any hope of escape. Gagsworthy and some thugs tied me to a chair and forced me to watch as Joker raped my wife. Barbara prayed all through the attack, and I begged him to stop, but Joker made a big show of it, forcing me to watch and searing the images into my memory. When he was done, Joker made some sick joke about the “circle of life,” and his whole gang laughed. Then they left and, as far as I know, they never said a thing to anyone. Joker is a madman, and he thinks the best revenge is that which poisons the mind.

“That night fucked me up, just as he hoped. I couldn’t perform in bed ever since, no matter what I tried.  Barbara, though, was not traumatized as Joker might have planned, and she actually believed that God had answered her prayers by making Joker let us go rather than kill us.

“Then, a month later, we were blessed and cursed with the most unfair news possible -- Barbara was pregnant. This was an unthinkable truth. We never told anyone that Barbara was raped or that the baby wasn't mine, but I couldn’t lie to myself, and Joker probably always knew. I fell into a depression, consumed by hate and helplessness. Barbara saw the pregnancy very differently. She thought that God was working in mysterious ways, turning our greatest disgrace into a wondrous miracle.

“During Barbara’s pregnancy, the doctors discovered a cancerous tumor in her liver. They would have missed the signs if not for all of the ultrasounds she was receiving. Even with this early diagnosis, doctors gave her two to three years to live, but she still thanked God for this child and the diagnosis, believing she would have died even younger if things turned out differently. I was devastated, but then Babsy was born, and here was this beautiful baby rising out of the ashes of our lives. Barbara felt guilty that I would have to raise this baby on my own, and she insisted that we name the baby after herself, saying that when she is gone, she would still be with me in our daughter.

“Babsy was so beautiful that sometimes I forgot the horror story that conceived her. I accepted her as my daughter. Every once in a while, when she laughed, I heard _his_ laughter. But that prince of chaos had given to us more than he had taken away, and I got a weird feeling of satisfaction knowing that he would never experience such a blessing for himself.

“Babsy cried inconsolably the day her mother died, and I didn’t do much better. I couldn’t care for myself, much less an infant, so I left her in the care of her nannies. I buried myself in my work and sometimes even forgot Babsy was my responsibility.

“That was about the time of the great Arkham escape, and the first sightings of the Dark Knight. Gotham was in chaos, but the Batman and the vigilantes were giving Gotham hope, and I wanted to be a part of that revolution. I was better at being a cop than I was at being a father. I couldn't even look at her without being torn apart inside. Babsy spent all day with nannies and teachers, and when I came home from work late at night, she was always asleep.

“I only saw Babsy when the nannies called to say that she had done something bad, and I needed to punish her. And I know I punished her too hard … for the wrong reasons.  That started an odd pattern of behavior where Babsy was getting worse and worse. I didn't realize she was only misbehaving because that meant that she’d get to see me. In her little mind, everything revolved around me, and she played all kinds of games to get my attention.

"Finally, she had found one of my guns and fired it in the house, mildly injuring herself from the kickback. She explained later that she wanted to know what I liked about shooting a gun, as thought cops fired guns for fun. That’s all she knew about me. That woke me up and made me realize that I had been neglecting her. I was afraid to be near her. She was looking more and more like her mother, but she was also acting like her father, and it was messing with my mind.

“Then she started with the flirting. I don't think she was doing anything consciously. She mirrored flirting she saw on TV, and she was always alert to anything I liked. She brought out something in me I didn't know was there. First, it was just a little inappropriate touching. Eventually, she was sitting in my lap and grinding her little tush against my dick, making me hard. I felt so ashamed. I couldn’t get hard for my wife when I had the chance, but this five-year-old girl was putting some bad thoughts in my head.

“You see, father, I have a disease. A thorn in my flesh. I’m attracted to young women, very young, and I’ve always known that. But I never expected to be turned on by Babsy when she was in kindergarden! It wasn’t her body; it was the way she acted. She was very flirty, especially to me. I understood that she was behaving that way because I had been ignoring her for so long, but I didn’t handle it very well. It didn't mean sex to her. It was just how she saw women getting attention from men on TV, so she tried it on me. Then I was injured and spent some time resting at home, I encouraged her flirting, and sometimes I even touched her in ways that I shouldn’t have. I know I've crossed lines, but I promise I never crossed that big line, no matter how she tempted me. To her, it was all a childish game.

“But I’m not so sure about that, anymore. Tomorrow is her twelfth birthday. She still looks very young and small, but her body is … developing. And now sex seems to be all she thinks about. When she flirts with me now, I think she means it! I don’t trust myself around her, anymore. I lay down the law at home. I forbid her from wearing the sexy outfits that so many tweens are wearing these days, but even seeing her in those plain school uniforms turns me on.

“Still, I could handle a little temptation, but what she is doing lately just doesn’t seem fair. First, the school caught her sending some really shocking selfies from her phone, and I wish I hadn’t asked to see them. Then her nanny told me of her disturbing behavior at home, so I put in some hidden cameras, you know, to monitor things. I mean, that’s my responsibility, right? But who am I kidding, I liked watching her. She is so young and playful and just the way she bounces around the house gets me hard like a teenaged boy.

“And that’s why I’m here today, Father. I feel like I can’t help myself, like I have to sin, but I don’t know which sin is greater. First, I just jerked off a little while watching her play around the house, brush her hair, or whatever. Innocent stuff, but it still turns me on. I know it’s sick, jerking off to my daughter, but I was always a much better dad once I got that demon out of my system, so I kept doing it. I did it for her benefit. Then she accidentally moved one of the cameras into her bedroom. Now I can watch her change her clothes. I can put that recording on a loop and cum in two minutes. Then, over the past two nights, she’s been playing with herself right in front of the camera! I mean, it’s like she knows someone is watching her and is posing for an amateur porn flick. She is so fucking hot, I can’t help but watch! … Sorry, Father. But what do I do? I can’t send her away. She’s my daughter, and I love her, even if I’m not loving her the way I should. I feel like I can’t treat her like my daughter during the day if I don’t fantasize about her at night.

“So what should I do, Father? How can I stop sinning?” James asks, desperate for an answer.

The priest pauses for several moments, then he says sharply. “You can’t keep doing what you are doing, and you’ll need to come to confession more often, or at least find a support group. But don't worry. Many men go through a mid-life crisis, and I can assure you that many men share your temptations. In the meantime, I’m going to give you some plain advice: Man up, son! Be the boss of your family! If your daughter tempts you, set her straight! Society today shuns discipline, but you should heed Solomon’s warning, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’  Now for your penance, say the Lord’s Prayer five times, and ten Hail Mary’s. Go now in peace and sin no more.”

***

It is a laughably inadequate penance, yet James feels better, anyway, unloading that litany of sins and giving up his will to God. He walks out of the church, feeling more hopeful than before. He takes the priest’s advice to “Man up” to heart, feeling that maybe his situation is really that simple. He doesn’t need to be at the mercy of his emotions. If he focuses, he can take control of his situation.  He begins to psychoanalyze himself, imagining that his lust for his daughter is part of a mid-life crisis or loneliness that could just as easily be settled by starting to date again. He wonders if his registration to match.com is still valid. Is the site still even in operation after all of these years?

As he climbs into his police car, his cell phone rings, and the caller is “HOME.”

An hour ago, he would have let Babsy’s call go to voicemail, but now he feels much more confident, so he answers happily, “Hi Babsy!”

“Hi Daddy!” she exclaims, bright as the sun. “I wish you could have come to the party last night. It would have been so much more fun!”

James hesitates, remembering when he last saw Babsy last night, watching her naked and acting horny. He forgets all of the regret he felt just a few minutes ago, and his dick shifts in his pants

Finally, he says honestly, “I wish I could have been there, too.”

“I missed you this morning,” she says sadly. “I wanted to make you pancakes, but you were gone, again.”

“I’m sorry, Babsy,” he says, suddenly overcome by guilt. Then he lies, “It’s just all of the work. It’s a 24-hour job, you know.”

“But you are coming home tonight, right?” she pushes that guilt button hard. “I’m going to be twelve, and I want to play trick or treat with you.”

“Of course!” he says immediately, but with a wild mix of emotions. “I’ll be home by six, and we’ll go trick or treating after dinner. I can’t wait to see you in that princess costume!”

Babsy giggles. “I can’t wear that costume, silly! It’s way too small. I’ve got a much nicer costume now. Didn’t you see my text message?”

James shakes his head, as though she could see. “I haven’t checked my messages yet, but I’ll look right after this.”

“Oh, you’re going to love it!” she promises. “It’s like a Batman costume, except girly, you know? The picture is kinda dark, but you can, like, use your imagination.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” he says excitedly, falling back into the trap quickly again.

“Ok, don’t be late!” she says happily. “I love you, Daddy!”

“I love you, too,” he replies longingly.

They disconnect, and James immediately berates himself for his lack of discipline.

He starts his car engine, determined to get to work and get his mind right again, but then he remembers to check his messages.

His jaw nearly drops when he sees Babsy’s photo showing her as a little Batgirl. She’s looking back at the camera with seductive eyes and a pose that exudes sexuality and confidence.

James knows he’s in trouble.


	11. Bad Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm your deadly nightshade, I'm your cherry tree  
> You're my one true love, I'm your destiny  
> -Marina

James is devoted to his job as Police Commissioner, and when he is at work, he rarely has trouble keeping his heart and mind right. The gravity of his responsibility to the citizens of Gotham weighs heavily on him.

Crime spikes on Halloween, because criminals find it easy to burglarize when so many people are away from home, and the streets are full of characters in suspicious costumes.

So Babsy doesn’t know what a challenge it is for James to be with her for Halloween each year, and James doesn’t want for her to know. She doesn’t know that her yearly Halloween/Birthday celebrations with her Daddy are due in large part to the super-hero she admires so much, who coordinates with Harvey to an unusual degree to give her single dad the time he needs to spend with his family.

In a rare daytime sighting, the Dark Knight meets with James and Harvey atop the police station at lunchtime to discuss security plans for the holiday evening.

Both of James’ crime-fighting friends envy the fact that James has a child, and they often make fun of him for choosing to spend so much of his life in the cesspools of the city. When they found out that Babsy’s birthday was mere days after Halloween, they’ve gone out of their way each year to make sure James doesn’t squander this one blessing in his life.

At the same time, they wouldn’t be good friends if they didn’t abuse him relentlessly for having a domestic life at all.

Harvey mocks that the Gordons were adorable last year dressed up as a king and princess.

Batman audibly groans. “Really, Jim, I know you have a reputation to keep, but kings and princesses?  Your daughter is almost twelve, right? Isn’t it time she grows up a little and stops living like a Disney character?”

James shakes his head. “I don’t know. Kids grow up so fast these days. Maybe it’s just because she’s my kid, but it doesn’t seem right. This is what she wants to wear tonight,” he says as he pulls out his cell phone, brings up Babsy’s photo in the bat-girl costume and shows his half-naked daughter to Batman.

Batman doesn’t say anything. He takes a deep breath and then shakes his head while leaning in for a closer look. “Oh, man.”

Harvey pertly grabs the phone and looks for himself.

Unconsciously, Harvey evaluates Babsy as though she is James’ hot date, not his daughter: Harvey whistles and says, “Damn, this is the girl I’ve been driving around town this week? When did she get curves?”

James and Batman stare at Harvey, shocked by his outrageous response, and James pulls the phone away with jealous indignation.

Harvey does an instant 180. “You …. you can’t let her dress that way, Jim! She’s just a little kid, for Christ’s sake! You have to set her straight!” Harvey insists while wiping his brow.

“Don’t you think I know that?” James responds forcefully, as all three men try to emphasize how unacceptable they find the situation.

James’ friends reacted inappropriately, which makes James feel worse about them, but a little better about himself, not being the only adult who is stimulated by his sexed-up tween.

But when the good-natured ribbing is over, and Batman and Harvey both stare at him, expecting the law-and-order cop to lay down the law, so James decides to set things straight right now.

He presses the “call-back” button under the sexy bat-girl photo and puts the phone to his ear.

Babsy answers on the second ring. “Hi Daddy!” but he can barely hear her because she is blasting her Marina CD on the house stereo.

Babsy’s greeting caresses his heart, but he is determined to stay firm. “Hi Babsy. I … uh,  I forbid you from wearing that obscene costume tonight. You’ll have to find something more appropriate.”

“You don’t like it?” she challenges, sounding disappointed.

“It’s too dark … and revealing,” he stumbles, unable to say how he really feels.

Babsy pauses for a moment, then she asks, “I don’t have any other costume. What should I wear?”

“I don’t know,” James says. “You are a child, Babsy, and you should look like one. Find something bright and sweet and loose-fitting, like you used to wear. You are a creative girl, you’ll think of something.”

Babsy doesn’t answer immediately, but then she replies excitedly, without a hint of disappointment, “OK Daddy!”

She made this easy for him, so he smiles and whispers, “Thanks Gummy Bear. Take some money from the jar if you need to buy something. I’ll be home around 7 PM.”

“OK. I love you Daddy!”

James glances at his friends before replying with, “Me, too,” and disconnecting. Then he straightens his collar and stares at his friends with resolve.

Batman smiles and asks simply, “Gummy bear?”

Then Harvey laughs, “You sure laid down the law!”

James smiles back and looks away. At least they aren’t drooling over that bat-girl costume, anymore. He knows they are all still thinking about it. None of them will be able to unsee it. But they will move on, and James will still obsess over it.

***

A few hours later, as the sun settles over the Gotham skyline, James reluctantly says he’s heading to the locker room to wash up and change into something more Halloween appropriate.

He was planning to use his tired, old king costume, but his friends shame him out of it. Besides, no costume should be worn three years in a row. It’s an unwritten rule. Like Babsy, he doesn’t have a backup costume, so he sends a rookie out to find a replacement while he continues working. He doesn’t give the young cop much creative direction, except he doesn’t want anything to do with law enforcement or heroes or anything “adult.” When the rookie returns, James laughs at what he came up with, but he is sure it will make Babsy smile.

Now he is ready for Halloween with his daughter.

He had started the day feeling nervous and ashamed, but after confessing his sins with a priest, a long talk with his buddies and a few reassuring calls to his daughter, he now feels stronger.

James drives home and parks the car. He feels a silly walking between the car and his front steps in his Halloween costume. The street-lights illuminate him like he is on a stage. His nervousness spirals when he unlocks the front door.

But James doesn’t hesitate. He is accustomed to marching through danger, no matter the risk. He presses his lips together and reassures himself that after a week defusing gunfights and cut-throat politics, dealing with his daughter should be a piece of cake.

When he opens the door to his house, he can still hear Babsy playing that album she loves so much on the stereo in the living room. He takes a few steps inside, and Babsy pops out of the living room and jumps on him the way Dino greats Fred Flintstone whenever he returns home, except she is yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!”

A thick aroma of strawberries wafts off his daughter, reminding him how hungry he is.

After a moment, they step back and admire each other’s costumes.

Babsy is dressed only with a towel wrapped around her, covering her from her chest to mid-thigh. Pictures of watermelons, orange wedges and cherries decorate the towel, and the belt that keeps it from falling off her body is made of red licorice rope. Babsy’s body is tinted a uniform color of pink from her face, arms and legs, and he assumes everywhere else. Topping the costume off are funny looking teddy-bear ears on her head.

James smiles and asks, “What are you supposed to be?”

Babsy rolls her eyes and poses suggestively, “I’m a gummy bear in a fruit wrap, silly!”

He laughs, because she looks adorable. He licks his lips, because he is already imagining unwrapping that gummy bear.

His conscience tells him that he should punish her, but for what?

She did exactly what he demanded of her, even if she broke with the spirit of his instructions. In the loose-fitting towel, he can’t see the shape of her body. He told her to dress like a child, and now she looks more like seven than eleven, going on twelve. But to James, she now looks sexier than ever. The towel is precarious, seeming like it could fall off at any moment. The strawberry scent hits him like the sexiest perfume, just like she knew it would, and she’s always known how to turn him on with just a smile or a flirty gesture.

She knows what she is doing. She’s always known.

He stares at her with wolf’s eyes as she breaks off a piece of her Twizzler belt and sucks on the piece while gazing longingly in his eyes.

His cock is hard after only a few seconds, and all she needs to do is look down to see, but she doesn’t break eye contact.

She takes the piece of licorice out of her mouth and steps forward, holding the candy up to his lips, asking, “Are you hungry, Daddy?”

She puts the piece of licorice in his mouth and giggles when he eats it.

“What are you, Daddy?” she asks as she drags a finger down the front of his costume, and her hand lightly brushes over the bulge between his legs.

He steps away from her toxic touch and is thankful that his costume is very loose-fitting, deluding himself that maybe she doesn’t see his excitement.

“I’m Fred Flintstone!” he says, amazed that she couldn’t recognize the famous caveman in the fake orange leopard skin and black wig. He kicks off his shoes to complete the image and raises a small caveman club.

Babsy looks bewildered, but she says,  “I love it!” anyway.

James’ smile wavers, as he now realizes that she probably has no idea who the classic cartoon character is – a stark reminder how different their worlds are.

“Well, it’s getting late, so you should probably grab your candy bag so we can go trick-or-treating before all of the candy is gone,” he says, switching gears, trying to defuse his feelings. He doesn’t even consider how inappropriate her costume is for a public event like trick-or-treating.

Instead, Babsy grabs his hand and urges him towards the living room, begging, “Can’t we stay at home and watch a scary movie instead?”

“But … the costumes?” he replies stupidly.

She doubles up her grip with both hands, now, and she looks up at him with a smile as she playfully drags him into the living room, pleading, “Pleeeease! I made this costume for you! I don’t want anyone else to see it!”

On that they can agree.

James lets her drag him to the doorway of the living room, but he stops there, insisting, “Okay, okay, we can watch a movie, but … I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten anything all day, except a tiny piece of your belt.”

Babsy laughs and bounces excitedly. “Yay!” she cries out, then suddenly she pretends to be mature. “Go get comfortable, Daddy, and I’ll make us some popcorn!”

She skips into the kitchen, carelessly letting her robe pop open for an instant, not long enough for James to see anything, but long enough for him to imagine.

When she is out of sight, James takes a deep breath. But he doesn’t relax.

He sneaks into his bedroom while she’s not looking, closes the door, and whispers, “Fuck me. What am I doing?”

His cock was hard as a rock even before she brushed her hand over it. How the hell is he supposed to watch a whole movie with her sitting beside him?

He decides to call everything off. He grabs some fresh cop clothes from his bureau and starts removing his costume. He always feels in control when he’s dressed as a cop.

He’ll tell Babsy an emergency call came in at the station, and he has to leave. She’ll get over her disappointment, eventually. But what will he tell Harvey when he gets back to the station?

He stands naked in his bedroom, holding his police issue tactical briefs in his hands when he notices a red scrap on the floor.

He kneels and looks more closely. It’s a torn packet of unsweetened strawberry Kool-Aid powder. It’s empty, but some of the pink dust is on the floor around it, and Babsy’s small footprint is visible in the dust. He smiles when he realizes what Babsy was doing with the drink mix. She must have bought a box of Kool-Aid packets and poured the powder into the bathtub and soaked in it. He licks his wrist, where Babsy was grabbing him, and now he can taste the tart strawberry flavor. But why was she in his room?

Using his detective skills, he examines the room, and he sees pink residue on the chair in front of his computer. The powder is also on the keyboard and the mouse. His heart pounds in his chest when he enters the password to his computer. There, right in front of him, is the video of Babsy masturbating in her room. He can’t remember if he left it there when he left this morning, but does it matter? If she can log into his computer, then she knows what her precious Daddy has been doing in private.

He doesn’t know how to respond. He’s angry that she invaded his privacy. He’s ashamed that he had invaded hers. He’s relieved that his secret is known. And after all that, she’s still flirting with him with a vengeance!

“Daddy!” she calls out from the other room. “Hurry while the popcorn is warm!”

“I’ll be right there, Gummybear,” he calls back, and with that, he decides to stay.

But what else will he do? How will he handle this situation?

He stuffs the work costume back in the bureau, deciding to wear the Flintstone costume after all.

But importantly, he skips wearing underwear when he dons the bottomless costume again. He can’t say it was an accident. Police usually call such behavior negligence.

It doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. He can hide an erection more easily without his briefs getting in the way. Nobody understands their relationship. Babsy isn’t really his biological daughter. Age is just a number. There are exceptions to every rule. These rationalizations feel like enough for now. Besides, there are no rules that say he needs to wear underwear while watching a movie with his daughter.

Then he goes from negligent to reckless.

He reaches back into the bureau, grabs an amber pharmacy vial and extracts a small blue pill that has been waiting there for years. He pulls out a glass and chases his manhood with a shot of Jack Daniels.

Maybe he can’t control when he gets an erection when he is near his daughter, but he can surely control when it leaves.

Finally, he opens his bedroom door and walks deliberately to the living room. He hasn’t decided to do anything yet, so there is nothing to be ashamed of.

That’s what he tells himself.

Babsy already looks cozy on the sofa, inviting him to sit beside her with a gentle smile. She thoughtfully laid the popcorn and a tablet on the table next to where he will sit.

When he sits down, she snuggles up next to him. She nudges his arm up, almost forcing him to reach around her and pull her in even closer. She has done the same thing since she was very small, and he always felt it was innocent. Nothing seems innocent about her anymore.

He swallows. He can barely even think about the popcorn, but he forces himself to eat a few kernels.

Then he notices that the TV screen is blank except two words in the middle saying, “Waiting for input.”

“What’s wrong with the TV?” he asks, feeling stupid.

“Here Daddy,” Babsy says while recklessly reaching across his body, grabbing the tablet from the table, then dropping it on his lap. “See?”

Images of several scary movies are arrayed on the tablet under the heading “Horror,” and now he understands.

The movies all come with trailers. Babsy wants to watch them all. Every trailer contains jump scares. Babsy cries out and clings to her Daddy during every thrilling surprise. He is overwhelmed by her warmth and childish voice and strawberry aroma, while he chows down on the popcorn, trying to not think of the treat pressing in ever tighter. Her bare legs huddle over his. Her left arm lays over his chest, and the other arm scrunches up between them. If she gets any closer, she’ll be sitting on his lap.

Despite all of it, and despite even the Viagra in his system, his cock gets softer.

She has pushed his emotions so hard, he suddenly doesn’t feel anything. It’s like he’s in the eye of a storm.

They finally settle on the movie “IT”, because the kids look like they aren’t much older than Babsy, so the movie can’t be too scary, right?

But Babsy buries her face in James’ chest when the clown first appears, and she acts ashamed and scared.

Like she knows the secret of another clown that James has been keeping hidden from her throughout her life.

And that is the trigger that wakes his feelings.

While Babsy clings to her Daddy, he reaches for the tablet and stops the movie.

Babsy looks at him with doe eyes.

James’ eyes are hard when he opens the can of worms with, “What were you doing in my room today?”

Babsy swallows but stays silent, hoping the can of worms will somehow re-seal itself.

Her eyes glance to the right, as though she heard something.

Then he notices the tiny black earphone in her ear.

He quickly jiggles her ear, and it falls out.

“What is this? Have you been listening to music this whole time?” he says accusingly. He has no idea what he is accusing her of, but her alarmed reaction tells him she is guilty of something.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she cries, almost begs.

He tosses the earphone on the floor and almost yells, “What are you lying to me about?”

Babsy cowers silently like a bad puppy.

Then he decides to treat her like a puppy.

He grabs both of her shoulders and shakes her angrily.

Her fruit wrap towel falls partly open. He pulls on the licorice belt, breaking it, and the wrap falls to the floor.

Now his little Gummybear is completely naked, but she covers herself with her hands, not wanting to be seen naked like this, while she feels powerless and afraid.

He points to his lap, and she knows what that means.

She leans over his lap and closes her eyes, waiting for her punishment.

James grabs her hair with one hand and firmly slaps her on the bare ass, each strike to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

She whimpers to the same beat, just like she had done many times before.

Until last year, James’ had slapped her bare bottom often when she misbehaved. He always told himself that it meant nothing sexual, but he only punished her this way after she had somehow excited him, and that means something.

And here they are again, her misbehaving, and him touching her in a way that should not be appropriate. Here she is crying when perhaps she should be punishing him instead.

Babsy covers her reddening face with her hand while she hugs his leg with the other, and her body quivers in anticipation of each spank.

Tears fall from James’ eyes now, when he sees his handprints darkening her ass cheeks. He slaps her twice more, but much more gently, and then he caresses her sore skin, horrified at what he has done.

Then he lets his hand slide between her legs and feels how wet his spanking has made her.

“Oh my God,” he moans, when he realizes that while punishing his daughter, his oversized shirt had slid up his legs and now his hardening cock is pressing up against Babsy’s bare belly. “I’m sorry, Babsy,” he says.

Babsy face is dripping with red, strawberry tears when she slides off of his lap, saying, “No, Daddy, I’m sorry!” Then she pushes his legs apart and kneels between them. She touches his cock with her fingertips and lifts her hips so she can move even closer. She looks up at him with pleading eyes.

His cock moves as it grows, and James strokes his daughter’s hair, telling her all she needs to know.

James watches Babsy in amazement as she smiles and invites his middle-aged cock into her twelve-year-old mouth. She closes her eyes when she sucks and fucks him with her mouth, exactly like her mother did years ago, as though she inherited the technique.

When she lifts her head, a strand of saliva stretches between her mouth and his cock. She smiles and looks in his eyes, then she licks his cock greedily from the base to the tip, reminding him of the first time he experienced these forbidden feelings for his daughter. Babsy only remembers that time in pieces, but James remembers it clearly. It bothered him every day since, but not anymore. James closes his eyes and lets his daughter pleasure him, while he relives memories of a much younger Babsy.

When Babsy was only six years old, James was confined at home for two months, and it was the first time he spent any quality time with her since her mother had died. He remembers Babsy running excitedly towards the heavenly music of an ice-cream man’s truck. James joined his daughter a moment later and purchased a grape Popsicle for her. She licked that frozen stick and looked up at him with the same delighted look she shows him now as she licks his cock. Then she stuck out her purple tongue, making him laugh and feel that first stirring deep inside.

A few days later, he caught Babsy running into the house after playing in the mud, leaving a trail of wet dirt in her wake. He picked her up and carried her to the bathtub. He filled the tub, helped her undress and then helped her wash up. She gazed at him with trusting eyes while he touched her all over. He cleaned her babyish nipples playfully, and she laughed because it tickled. Then he cleaned between her legs like he had done a few years before when changing her diapers. But they both knew this was different. He surprised her and himself when he slid a soapy finger between her puffy pussy lips and pushed two inches inside of her. She gasped in amazement, and then she laughed, thinking he was just tickling her in a new way.

The next day, six-year-old Babsy surprised him by walking naked into the tub with him while he was showering. She wanted to wash and tickle him, like he had done for her. He gave her a bar of soap and she started to wash his legs and then she rubbed the soap into the mysterious organ between his legs. He said the squished-up organ was his secret pet. They joked how funny his pet looked, and she thought the little hole at the end was a tiny eye. When she saw his pet stiffen and grow, she giggled excitedly and grabbed it in her tiny hand like a joystick. She asked him why his pet was growing. He explained that his pet liked her, and he showed her how his pet preferred to be touched. Babsy stroked his pet and kissed it, and she excited him faster than he had ever been excited before. Babsy was laughing and licking him when his pet spat in Babsy’s face. She gazed up at her Daddy with an open mouth, amazed. He explained that she had been milking his pet like it was a cow, and he let her suck the rest of the milk out of him.

The next day, Babsy wanted to play with his pet again, but shame finally got the best of him, and he refused. That’s when their relationship got awkward. Those were some of their first experiences since Babsy was an infant, and sick as the experiences were, they were filled with a love that the rest of the world could never accept. So James shut it down, leaving Babsy confused and both of them frustrated.

But now the past is the present again, except that Babsy knows exactly what she is doing. She is fucking her Daddy like she has practiced in her mind and with toys since those days in the bathtub. She massages his balls and bobs her head up and down. He looks at her lovingly, grabs her hair, thrusts his hips, and explodes into her mouth.

She keeps sucking and swallowing until she’s drained him completely, then she licks the shaft, in case any of his Daddy juice got away. Then she smiles up at him and sticks out her semen covered tongue before swallowing the rest.

He smiles back at his little girl.

“Happy Birthday, Gummy Bear,” he says with a deeper voice than she’s ever heard from him before.

She laughs and actually cries tears of joy, saying, “Thank you, Daddy!”

Then she pushes his legs together and climbs onto his laps, straddling his hips with her legs and resting her pussy on his still hard cock.

She thinks it’s time to relax – that his cock will now go soft, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

“I’m still hungry,” he says almost with a growl, and Babsy lets out a delighted scream when he lifts her like a toy and carries her into his bedroom and tosses her like a stuffed animal onto the bed.

She lands on her back and immediately spreads her legs, inviting him in.

He doesn’t waste time with teasing bullshit.  He grabs her little thighs with his big hands and forces her open even wider. He ogles her wet pussy for a moment before licking the warm strawberry juices from her pink lips, and then he makes more juice by attacking her clit while fucking her with his rough fingers. He can’t tell the flavor of his daughter from the strawberry essence she covered herself in, and which is now leaving a pink residue all over his white sheets.

Soon, she is crying out, “Daddy! Oh Daddy!” but he keeps sucking and licking and finger-fucking her tiny, fruit-flavored pussy.

Soon, the strawberry flavor fades, so he climbs his delicious Gummy Bear, careful not to crush her tiny body with his middle-aged frame. He licks her navel where the Kool-Aid powder collected. Then he sucks on her tangy, budding nipples, before he threatens her delicate throat with his teeth, sending a thrill through her body. He licks the savory flavor of her armpits. Finally, he kisses his daughter on the lips and explores her mouth with his tongue, where he finally tastes the true, intriguing flavor of his daughter mixed with the buttery tones of his semen.

She lets him explore her, loving every minute of his attention. Only when she is no longer orgasming twice a minute, he rolls off and lays beside her.

He thinks it’s over, but his cock is still bursting with blood, and she stares at his member in amazement, thinking that he is so turned on by her that he is breaking the laws of biology.

She jumps off the bed and tries hopelessly to pull his legs off the bed, saying, “Come on, Daddy, I want to ride you!”

He smiles at her, sighs, and helps her pull his legs and ass over the edge and onto a narrow end table. She then climbs on top and straddles his legs like a cowgirl and maneuvers her hips until he slips inside of her and buries his cock to its base. She gazes down at him with a hot passion that seems impossible with her baby face. She arches her back and bounces her 67 pounds up and down. Her technique would be poor if she were riding a horse, but it is perfect for riding her father. Her tight pussy feels like heaven. She rides him fast and furiously with five minutes of boundless energy. He grabs her hips and watches her face flush red, and then he thrusts up to meet her and somehow comes again inside her pussy. His reservoir must be tiny, but his second cumming is just as intense as the first, and this time they cum at the same time.  

Finally, they are both spent, and Babsy collapses on top of him, resting her head on his chest. His cock will remain stiff for at least another hour, so their bodies remain engaged. He puts his arms around her and embraces her tiny body. She hugs his chest, and her legs hang limply over his. She could rest on top of him for hours without becoming uncomfortable.

Finally, in the silence and with their passions spent, they have time to think about what they’ve done and weigh the consequences.

Holding Babsy as intimately as possible, James realizes that he doesn’t care anymore about the consequences. He doesn’t care about her age. He doesn’t care that she’s his daughter. He only cares that all of the bullshit is over now. He’s a man of the law, and he’s broken several now, but he’s lived long enough to know that for every law, there are exceptions. He’ll take comfort in that.

While he ponders their reality, Babsy whispers, “Do you still want popcorn, Daddy?”

A new hunger immediately hits him when she reminds him of the mostly fully bowl of popcorn in the living room. He sweeps his arms under Babsy and carries her to their food.  They sit on the couch and eat popcorn by the mouthful, making a mess in the process, but smiling the whole while.

The movie they were watching is still paused on the television. Babsy scrunches up against him and hands him the tablet, giving up control.

He’s about to press “continue,” when he sees the notification signal in the corner, indicating that he has a text message from an anonymous source.

He clicks open the message and is surprised to see two links to the Pornhub website.

“Spam,” he says flatly, then looks at his daughter. She looks back at him, and they both smile.

He clicks the link.

The video begins instantly, and Babsy appears onscreen eating popcorn on the same couch they are sitting on now, except she is still wearing the fruit wrap towel.

James is confused. Did he somehow click into his own security system?

But the URL on top of the screen says, “Pornhub.”

When he sees himself walking into the scene, he finally realizes that they are in trouble.

He pushes the video ahead a few minutes, and now his image is spanking Babsy. Ahead a few more minutes, and she is between his legs. Ahead a few more minutes, and the scene switches to the bedroom. Whoever recorded this got everything, and is probably recording them right now.

Soon all of Gotham and the world will see this. No threat of blackmail. No possibility of escape.

James stares at Babsy, and she looks back at him, also confused.

He pulls hair from his head and looks back at the text message. He clicks the second link.

Now he is thrown right into the action at the schoolroom, where Babsy is being fucked on a desk by a clown. And not just any clown, and not one of those copycat Jokers, but THE Joker. James could recognize him anywhere. The two-minute clip ends with a close-up of Joker’s spunk dripping from Babsy’s pussy with Joker cackling in the background, and then a closing text scrawl saying, “Happy Birthday Barbara Gordon – like mother, like daughter.”

James stares again at Babsy, who is now openly crying, saying, “I’m sorry Daddy!”

James is so stunned that he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t feel angry at Babsy. He knows she fell into Joker’s trap. She’s hardly the first, and his jokes are never funny.

And they are both victims of this particular joke, which is now publicly shown on a popular website. In one video, Babsy is fucked by her legal father, and in the other she is fucked by her biological father. 

But he’s not concerned what is happening at the moment. He’s worried what it means for their future, and he has no time to make plans. The longer he waits, the sooner his own police department will come to arrest him for the sexual assault of a minor. There is no defense for fucking a twelve-year-old girl, especially when she’s his daughter.

Except …

James takes a deep breath and takes Babsy’s hands and looks at her gently. “I don’t blame you, Babsy. I don’t even care whatever you did. I know it’s not your fault, but we are in trouble now, unless we do something crazy right now.”

“What can we do, Daddy?” Babsy asks, ready to do anything.

James steps off the couch and knees before her and asks tenderly, “Will you marry me, Gummy Bear?”

Babsy’s mouth drops.  “Can we do that?”

James nods with a smile, but he won’t explain to her how it’s possible.

He won’t explain that he is not her biological father. He won't explain that, because of an old law, marriage to a twelve-year-old girl is legal with parental consent in Gotham. He won't explain the myriad personal and legal consequences of this decision that he can’t even fathom right now.

All he knows is that it’s his only chance at avoiding jail, and that he and Babsy are in love.

“We can get married if we do it right now, before people come to take me away from you. So, will you marry me?”

Babsy smiles so hard, tears pour from her eyes and she hugs him hard, like he is a hero, cheering, “Yes! Yes, Daddy!”

“Okay, Mrs. Gummy Bear Gordon,” he says playfully, “we have to hurry and get dressed quickly and take a ride to the mayor’s house. He owes me big time, and I intend to collect that debt tonight.”

Babsy skips naked into her bedroom, her fear and shame already replaced by a young girl's excitement for the only thing she's ever wanted.

James walks calmly back into his bedroom.

He’s halfway into his police uniform when it occurs to him that Babsy is still three hours from being officially twelve years old.

In the next three hours, he will either be Babsy's rapist or he will be her husband.

So damned close.

In either case, his old life is over, and a new life is about to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> note: in this story, I may seem to be defending some pretty indefensible acts. I will only defend the fantasy, not the reality, the same way I can love gangster movies, but will never defend gangsters. It's easy to love the bad guy, and the sick way they think, and the evil that they do, when their world isn't real.
> 
> But I also think society has become almost puritanical when it comes to child sexuality. It is a reasonable over-reaction to err on the side of protecting children rather than consider the possibility that not all children are victims, and desire of children is not evil, just dangerous, like all desire is. I am not suggesting that any specific act or desire should be tolerated, but I believe prejudging any action and desire is more dangerous than discussion of the issues.


End file.
